Marauder Turned Muggle
by InventorOfFirebolt
Summary: James is determined to learn about Muggles, and who could be better for the job than our very own Lily Evans? One thing is for sure: it's gonna be a bloodbath in there. Rated T for a couple of dirty-mouthed teenage witches and wizards. A tiny, tiny bit AU for some of the dates and other small details. Complete, but in rewriting process.
1. Dinner With the Potters

"You've _what?_" I stared at my mother.

"Invited the Potters to dinner, dear," she said casually, as if it was no big deal to invite _James Potter _and his family to dine with us.

"But—!"

"I know you rather despise James, Lily, but he's a very nice boy. Give him a chance, will you?"

"Mum, James Potter is an arrogant little berk who hangs people upside down for fun! He is _not_ a 'very nice boy'and I've been giving him chances for seven years!"

"Trust me," my mum said firmly and I knew that was the end of that. I tried another tactic.

"But you barely know them!"

"Now, now, dear, you know Mrs. Potter and I have been out for tea twice now. I'd say we're pretty good friends."

"What about Mr. Potter, then?"

"I'm sure your father and he could strike up an interesting conversation. You know your dad can find anything to talk about," she reminded me.

I groaned. I could see there was no way of changing my mother's mind now. I checked that off mentally and moved onto the next checkbox: Desperately Get Help From Friends.

"So, when is it?" I asked, counting the days I had left on this earth.

"Tomorrow."

I jumped a foot in the air. "Tomorrow? Merlin's pants, Mum! Cutting it pretty fine, aren't you?"

"Yes, what's wrong with tomorrow? And who's this Merlin bloke?" Mum asked interestedly.

"Never mind, Mum. I'll be going now."

Taking the stairs three at a time, I sprinted up to my cozy attic bedroom. There, my owl, Tunia awaited me, her large amber eyes gazing at my quill. For some reason, she'd always been able to tell whenever I needed her to carry a letter. Quickly, I ripped off some parchment and scribbled a short note to my best friend, Marlene:

_Come to my house this afternoon. Emergency. Bring the others. _

"You know Marlene, don't you?" I told Tunia. "Off you go, now."

I watched her hop off the attic window and swoop into the clear summer air, soaring joyfully, the sun shining off of her gleaming feathers. I heaved a sigh. If only I could be that carefree.

* * *

><p>"So what's at stake here?" Mary asked, sprawled out on the lawn. She, Marlene, Alice, Dorcas, and Emmeline had come flying to my rescue, literally. From the corner of my eye, I could see Dorcas jealously eyeing Emmeline's boyfriend, Benjy's brand-new Nimbus 101, while her broom, a notch down from his—a Cleansweep Three—sat with the other girls' brooms on the grass.<p>

"My mother is inviting the Potters over for dinner." My best friends' eyes widened at that. "Tomorrow," I finished and watched their eyelids stretch to impossible widths.

"Why would she _do_ that?" Dorcas was appalled; she hated Potter nearly as much as I did, though it's probably for all the exhausting drills that he puts her and the rest of the team through during Quidditch practice. I shrugged.

"Dunno. Something about him being a very nice boy and giving him a chance and all that bull."

"Wow, your mum is really out of it," Alice said. Normally I would've defended my mum (what? I do love her, you know) but today I was feeling far from that.

"So now the dilemma is, what are you going to wear?"

Incredulous, I turned toward the speaker. Marlene. I should've known. Only she would worry about what I was going to wear!

"I don't know, Marlene. It's a dinner, not a party or anything."

"Still," she insisted, "you can't just wear your everyday clothing."

"And why not?"

'"Yes, it's a dinner, but James Potter will be present!"

"And that thought alone makes me want to hurl myself over the edge of a cliff. Go on?"

"My point is that—"

"Marlene," Emmeline interrupted. "We all know that you're just doing this to torture Lily." Note to self: grovel at Emmy's feet later and thank her for her timing. Marlene tried to look hurt, but when we all stared at her, she dropped her act and let her gleefulness shine through.

"Please, Lils," she begged. "It'll be so fun seeing you playing dress-up!"

"Dress-up?" Mary scoffed. "We're not some pathetic wannabe first years, Mar. I say, let Lily wear her favorite pair of jeans and T-shirts and flip-flops and leave it like that."

Huh. Suddenly everyone's being supportive. Did they know how I'd react if they interrupted Marlene? Well, I sure as hell am not going to grovel at the feet of all of them.

"Seconded," Dorcas, my fellow tomboy, chimed in.

"You know Lily looks beautiful in anything she wears," Emmy added. Then she realize how…_strange_ that sounded. "Oh, you lot know what I mean!"

"Do we?" Alice wagged her eyebrows. "Or do we have to prepare Benjy for heartbreak now?"

"You are impossible," Emmy shook her head.

"Cheating on your boyfriend with your best friend!" Mary's hand fluttered to her heart. "Oh, the drama!"

"Oh Emmy!" Alice gushed in a high-pitched squeaky voice that is _so_ not Benjy's. "How could you, my dearest, fairest, loveliest emerald?"

"How did you know he called me that?" Emmy demanded, cheeks coloring. Alice stopped in mid-gush, jaw hanging open.

"Lucky guess," I said, nodding at Alice and everyone else's confounded expression. "But Emmy—'dearest, fairest, loveliest emerald'? You two can give Marlene and Sirius a run for their money in being the most disgusting, lovesick, sappy—"

"We get it, Lils." Mary held up a hand, looking green in the face. "Don't mention that, it brings back unnecessary memories."

"It's that time in the Room of Requirement, isn't it?" I asked sympathetically.

"It was," Mary nodded. "That time, y'know?"

"I know," Alice agreed. "We found his trousers and belt and her shirt—"

"OI!" Marlene yelled, her ears bright red. "Let's get back to the topic of Lily's clothes, shall we?"

"Never!" Alice cackled. "Let's continue with the disgusting memories instead!

"Sweet mum of Merlin," Marlene muttered.

"Don't worry, Mar, you won't be alone! Let's drag Emmy and Benjy into this train wreck as well!" Dorcas wagged her fingers.

"Why do I call you my best friends again?" Emmy shook her head and sighed.

"Because you love us!" I grinned. "Mind, let's never progress to the level of fondness that Benjy's got for you."

"Yeah, we love you with our hearts, Em," Alice added. "But not that much."

"Is this ever going to end?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Yes."

"Oh well. We'll answer it anyway."

Emmy dunked her head on the lawn. "Damn you all."

* * *

><p>"Lily!" My mum called. "The Potters are arriving in twenty minutes!"<p>

"Thanks for warning me," I muttered. Dashing upstairs, almost trampling the cat, I grabbed my towel and clean underwear, then dashed into the shower, pushing a complaining Petunia out of the way.

"Sorry, sis!" I yelled. "Emergency!" I heard her mumble something like, "Emergency my arse, you just want to look good for that Potter freak." I sighed and made a mental note to sneak something from Zonko's into her food tomorrow. Wasting no time at all, I jumped into the bathtub and promptly proceeded to break the record of fastest shower possible. Then, even faster, I threw on some clothes and pushed a stunned Tuney back into the bathroom.

"LILY!" she shrieked. "You left your dirty underwear in the sink!"

I swore and grabbed my wand. "_Accio underwear!_" My things zoomed toward me and Tuney slammed the door shut.

Standing in front of my mirror, I studied myself. My dark red hair was straight, albeit a little wet-looking, and I planned to leave it straight, and down. My green eyes were makeup-free and I pondered idly if I should put on some mascara. Hesitantly, I took out my small makeup kit, a birthday present from Marlene, then shoved it away again. It was just a dinner, and dinners do not require makeup. I was wearing exactly what Mary had suggested: a dark gray tank top, a pair of jean shorts, and black flip-flops. I sighed contentedly to myself. _Marlene's going to flip when she hears about this,_ I thought, satisfied.

Marlene and I had engaged in a furious battle over what I was going to wear. Mary, Dorcas, and Emmeline stood on my side. Alice, ever the evil one, supported Marlene's decision in order to watch me being forced into various fancy, nauseating clothing. The casualties were high, and the war was long and bitter—it took all of the afternoon and much of today. I swear Tunia is going to quit on me because of all the death threats I wrote to Alice and Marlene. In the end though, I won, and the rival quite literally flew back to their homelands with a not-so-literal tail tucked between their legs. I looked up again, then nodded to myself. I looked every bit the image that Marlene did not want me to look. And if _that's_ settled, then I look pretty damn good.

"Lily!" Dad called. He had come home from work early today, just to be able to be present when the Potters arrive. "They're here!"

"Well, Lily," I said to myself. "It's time for Checkbox Number Three: Prepare For All Hell to Break Loose."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, what d'you think? This was originally a dare from MarisaCan'tRememberHerPassword, for my Lily and James drabbles fic. Since you dared me, Marisa, then I suppose this is dedicated to you. This chapter has nothing to do with the plotline, really, but it 's sort of an introduction; James will go through the torture that Muggles call 'school' later. Suggestions on various subjects are welcome; I think Lily is going to go relatively easy on James, so maybe middle (or secondary school, for any Brits out there) school-leveled.<strong>

**~Gella**


	2. Just Joking!

Dorea and Charlus Potter stood in our small living room, wearing casual, Muggle clothing. Mrs. Potter was wearing a sporty green dress and Mr. Potter was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. My parents seemed hopelessly out of place; Mum was wearing a long, formal blue dress and painful-looking heels and Dad was decked out in his work suit and a dark blue tie. Only Tuney and I fit in: she was wearing a thin, lacy halter top and an up-to-here skirt. I shook my head. Over the years, Tuney had…changed, to say the least. She was no longer the chubby, playful sister I once knew, but an almost too-skinny young woman of nineteen. She had forgone her curly pigtails from our childhood and instead wears her hair in a tight bun. Her style has also changed from homemade gingham dresses and colorful ribbons to tight, frilly, and showy. I missed the old Petunia. The new one is a stranger and I felt like an alien when around her.

"Sit down, sit down!" My mother's voice shook me out of my reminiscing. She ushered the Potters in and bustled around our kitchen to make some tea. Only then did I notice James, who was sort of hiding behind the door. Wearing a black shirt and baggy cargo shorts, his hair was wet and slicked back. I raised my eyebrows; I'd never seen him with his hair flat before, and it was to the Muggle gel's credit that I finally did.

"Hey," he shot me a crooked grin. "You look nice."

I rolled my eyes and walked after my parents, with James following me. Tuney was hanging off to the side, with her mouth gaping. Oops. Forgot to mention to her that the Potters' arrogantly handsome son had a longtime crush on me. My bad.

"You coming or what, sis?" I called after her. She huffed at me and shuffled after us, sidling up to James.

"Hi," she giggled. "I'm Petunia."

James smiled at her, offering his hand. "You're Lily's sister, right? I've heard a lot about you. Only good things, of course," he added hastily, but my hormone-ridden sister bought it, batting her eyes and smiling coyly. I sighed and left the two of them behind to flirt and joined my parents and the Potters in the living room. Mr. Potter was complimenting my mother on her delightful biscuits; Mrs. Potter engaged my father in an enthusiastic conversation about his work and the such. I poured myself some lemonade from the fridge—I'd never been a big fan of tea—and sat down on the rug. James and Tuney emerged, James looking a bit uncomfortable. I hid a smile and offered them both some lemonade. Tuney sniffed and picked up her ice water off the counter. James drained his cup in one gulp then asked for more. I fought the urge to laugh; he sure is at home here. I made to rejoin the general conversation, but stopped and glanced over my shoulder when James did not follow. He was playing with the toaster, a look of pure, wizard fascination on his face. This time I did laugh and went over to him.

"This is where Muggles get their toast from," I explained to him. "You dropped the slices of bread in here—" I pointed to the slots. "—and push this bar down."

"And what's this thing do?" he held the black plug in his hand. "I think Dad's talked about this before, like a glug or blug or something—"

"It's a _plug,_" I corrected. "It connects the toaster to the outlet, which is where the electricity comes from."

"What's electricalcity?"

"El-lic-tri-city," I pronounced carefully and slowly. "It's what powers the appliance, makes it work, you know."

"Wow," James was impressed. "Muggles are geniuses."

"I know we are. Now hurry up before they send in a rescue team." I tugged him towards the living room. I could feel Tuney's eyes zone in onto my hand on James' elbow and snatched it away as soon as the thought entered my mind. Taking my place on the rug again, I took a biscuit off the plate. James did as well, sipping his second cup of lemonade—a bit more conservatively this time—sitting next to me. Petunia narrowed her eyes and inconspicuously slid down next to James, who, equally inconspicuously, scooted closer to me.

"She doesn't bite," I whispered to him. "I don't think."

"It's not that," he whispered back. I grinned, relishing in his unease.

"Ah, you'll live," With that, I shoved him a bit ways towards my sister, so that their hips bumped and elbows touched. James all but jumped up in shock and Tuney looked pleased. I turned back to my lemonade, satisfied.

"I hate you, Lily," James muttered under his breath. I smiled sweetly at him in return.

"What do you say we start the food?" My mum suggested, setting down her teacup.

"Of course!" Mrs. Potter smiled. "If your teatime desserts could be this delicious, then dinner must taste even better."

"You are too polite," Mum said modestly, but I could tell she was pleased. My dad cleared his throat uncomfortably. Everyone's glances shifted to him.

"I hate to bail on you all, but this suit is really killing me," he grimaced. I noted the sweat stains on the fine fabric. "I'll just run upstairs and change into something more suitable for this terrible—I mean, ahh, humid summer weather."

"I, as well," Mum added. "I don't want to have to leave the table once dinner starts so I'll just go change now."

The Potters hastened to reassure both of them that it was perfectly okay, though they sounded a bit bemused. As my parents escaped upstairs, I was left alone with Dorea, Charlus, James, and Petunia. An awkward silence surrounded us, and I sipped my lemonade for something to do. Mrs. Potter, as always, saved the day.

"So Lily," she began, smiling pleasantly at me. "I've heard a great deal about you from James." My cheeks colored slightly and as discreetly as I can, gave him a sidelong glare, which he ignored, concentrating on a little spot above the clock.

"I see," I managed. Oh, real smooth, Lily. She smiled again.

"I'm sorry if he was of any bother to you—"

If only she knew half of it.

"—but that's just my James. He likes you, you know," she added casually. James choked on his lemonade and Tuney looked as if she'd swallowed an actual lemon. Me? I'm pretty sure my face turned as bright as my hair, an unprecedented feat.

"Mum!" James hissed. Dorea looked at her son, her hazel eyes—same as James'—twinkling merrily. "Was that really necessary?"

"Sorry, dear," she said, unfazed. Slowly, my color receded but James looked as if he was trying to digest a porcupine.

"I hear that you're a very bright student," Charlus said to me. "Twelve OWLs, was it? Impressive, very impressive indeed."

I blushed again under his praise. "Thank you," I said. "But I'm only good at Charms and Potions. The rest is just work, work, and more work."

"Only?" James scoffed. "You're like the only person in living history to achieve all O's on your OWLs!"

"But it's true, you know I stink at Transfiguration," I countered.

"Sorry to hear that," Mr. Potter said kindly. "That was my best subject at school, back in the day."

"_Way_ back in the day," James teased. I laughed; it was like something I would've said to my parents. Mr. Potter glowered at his son, but I saw that he was smiling too. _This is obviously a very close-knit family,_ I thought to myself. I took another sip of lemonade, but found that my cup was empty.

"Who wants more lemonade?" I asked. James tossed his cup at me and Mr. Potter said,

"Get some for me, will you? Your mother's biscuits are wonderful, but tea has never been a favorite of mine. Don't tell her that," he added, winking. I winked back.

"It'll stay between the…" I did a quick head count and found that Tuney was missing. "Between the four of us," I promised and filled James and his father's cups.

My mother came back down, looking a lot more comfortable with a white cargo pants and a green top, which matched the color of her eyes—and mine, as well. Dad was wearing his golfing outfit, which, in my opinion, wasn't much better than the suit.

"What did we miss?" He asked, settling back into his spot. My mum hurried into the kitchen and tied on her apron, calling over her shoulder, "Lily, make the Potters some more tea while I add some finishing touches to the food."

I met Mr. Potter's eye briefly, then we both looked away quickly, trying to control our laughter.

"Lils?" came Mum's voice from the kitchen.

"Coming, Mum," I swallowed my giggles and got up. "Who wants more tea?"

"Be polite," Mrs. Potter hissed at her husband. "I would, dear," she said to me. Mr. Potter immediately quieted down and meekly sipped his lemonade.

After I poured Mrs. Potter some tea, I went back into the kitchen. "Can I help?" I peeked over Mum's shoulder, surveying the mountain of food that had taken all of today to cook.

"I've got this," she turned to smile at me. "Why don't you and James go up to your room?"

"My room?" My eyes bugged out. "Mum, I'm not about show James Potter my bloody _room!_"

"Outside, then." She suggested. I sighed with relief. It's bad enough that I had to put up with him outside of school, but my room! I shook my head. "C'mon, James. Let's go," I opened the front door just as Mrs. Potter tied on an apron herself, ignoring my mother's protests.

"Where're we going?" He scrambled up, abandoning his lemonade.

"Out," I responded.

"We're going out?" His eyes widened. "That's awesome!"

"Oh Merlin," I swiped a hand across my face. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"Aw, come on, Lily. Do you really hate me that much?"

"Yes."

"Well, I love for your hate, so it evens out."

"Let's just go." I dragged him out onto the lawn, where my friends and I had laid the previous day. We found some shade under the oak tree by the garage and sat side by side, looking at nothing in particular. Another awkward silence descending upon us, and my eyes flitted to James, only to see him staring openly and shamelessly at me. Other people might've dropped their eyes or looked away, perhaps with a tiny blush, but not James. If anything, his gaze became even more intense. Our eyes stayed locked for no more than five seconds, but for some reason left me puzzled, and a bit curious. I no longer see the careless, conceited prankster that he was, but instead, an air of authority, an underlying layer of seriousness about him that wasn't there before. Of course, the goofiness and mischievousness was still there, but a bit muted, a bit muffled. Realizing that I've been staring for much too long, I broke the contact that looked down at my hands. _Dammit,_ I thought as I felt my cheeks warm. I thought I saw a smile curving James' lips, and scowled.

"So," he began, ending the silence. "How has your summer been?"

"Fine. Yours?" I was determined to be polite, if not slightly cool, for my mother's sake.

He shrugged. "The same as always, I suppose. Things did get a bit more…interesting with Sirius here, though," he grinned.

"I'd imagine. It's a miracle that your mother hasn't gone mad yet."

"Well, she _did_ threaten to kick us out after we demolished half of the backyard with a firecracker…." He caught sight of my expression and added, "We weren't trying to destroy anything! We just wanted to see which would go off louder, Dr. Filibuster's or the Muggle brand."

"And that's definitely an innocent reason," I said sarcastically. I'm not sure he picked up on that though, because for all I knew, it could very much be an innocent reason for _them._

"Definitely more innocent than some other things we've done," he agreed. I shuddered, not wanting to learn the inner workings of Potter and Black's minds anytime soon.

"So how's Sirius been? Get any girls pregnant lately?" I joked.

"Marlene didn't tell you?" he sounded surprised. Then a look of guilt overcame his face. "Oh wait…oops! Forget I said anything!"

Deafening silence as I processed this piece of impossible information.

"James Potter," I gasped. "Marlene is…?"

"Just pulling your wand," he smirked devilishly at me. "Fell for it pretty hard, didn't you?"

Oh. He was just pranking me. Calm down. Deep breath. Calm. Calm. Calm—

"YOU ARSE!" I yelled. He laughed and easily rolled out of the way as I flew at him, fists outstretched. "You—fat—arse!" A punch followed each word.

"Stop it," he giggled. "Oh Merlin—"

"YOU LITTLE PRAT!" More punches.

"Stop—" he gasped, clutching his side. For a second I thought I really had hurt him, then I realized that it was because he was laughing too hard.

"Ugh," I crossed my arms and fumed. He propped himself up on his elbows.

"That was funny," he chuckled. My face remained stony. "What would you do, though, if I was telling the truth?"

"Kill him," I replied.

"That's harsh,"

"Mm-hmm."

A pause. Then, "Is that what Marlene would do if she found out that you were pregnant?"

"My patience is running thin, Potter. Don't push it."

"But would she?"

I considered this for a second. "No, probably not. She'd gush over how cute the baby would be then beg me to make her godmother then jump on you and congratulate you on your success on finally winning me over."

James' eyebrows shot up. "So you're automatically assuming that I'd be the father of your child?"

"What? No! You asked me what Marlene would do if she found out I was pregnant—you were talking about yourself, weren't you?" A horrible suspicion came over me and I turned to see him grinning again.

"No, I asked what if she found out that you were pregnant—I didn't say to who, though," he said, his smile growing wider and wider. "I'm flattered that you think we'll one day have a baby together."

"JAMES CHARLUS POTTER!" I screeched.

"Joking!" he cried, evading my blows. "I'm joking!"

"If you like your face the way it is, then you'd better have been joking," I threatened, waving my wand under his nose.

"This is fun," he remarked. I glared at him.

"You think this is fun? What if my parents had overheard us? Hell, what if _Tuney_ had overheard us? My life would be ruined."

"All right, all right. I won't say anything more about having a child together—not that it can't happen one day," he added.

"_Furnuculu_—!"

"Joking!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yay, an update! This chapter still has nothing to do with the title, but be patient. I have this problem where I tend to write way more than is deemed wise, so yeah...I'll get to the point someday ;P<strong>

**~Gella**


	3. I'm Not Taking a No For an Answer!

I huffed and leaned back against the wall. Looks like I was wrong about him maturing over the summer. He was still the perverted, annoying, stupid, bigheaded James Potter I know and hate.

"Sorry," he apologized, the ghost of his laughter still evident on his face. "Please don't hurt me."

I ignored him, pointedly turning my face away.

"Well, at least you're not hurting me," he sighed. I studied the ants crawling on the grass. "Don't be like that, Lily." One of the ants fell off a stalk. "Lily?" His hand hesitantly strayed towards mine, and that was it.

"Don't touch me, please," I said in a mild voice. "I'd hate to put a damper on the dinner by informing your parents of your untimely death."

"As cheerful as ever," he sighed, taking his hand back.

"You know it."

"So, how's your summer?"

"You already asked that."

"I know."

"I told you, it's fine."

"Tell me more."

"Why?"

"You know, Lily, there's something called a conversation, where one person says something, then the other answers and elaborates on the finer details, yeah?"

I glared at him. "Since you seem hell-bent on forcing me to say something, I will. All right…so, I did all my homework in the first week, went out to get ice cream with Marlene a couple of times—she lives pretty close, I can bike there—, saw the others a few times, and helped my sister with her Muggle school homework. It must seem awfully boring to you, if blowing up your house is a favorite pastime of yours," I added.

"Muggle homework?" he asked, tactfully ignoring my comment about blowing up his house. "That sounds interesting."

"Trust me, it's not. Almost makes me wishes that I was doing extra essays for McGonagall."

"Wow, it's that bad?"

"You want to see?"

"Sure!" he grinned. "You can teach me all about Muggles and their homework."

"That was a rhetorical question!" I cried. He grinned wider.

"Too late. I'm not taking a no for an answer."

"Well, I can't teach you anything in one day anyway, so what's the point?"

"Marlene is my neighbor, did you know that?" he asked. I nodded; I've always felt bad for my best friend because of that. "So if you can bike to her place, then you can bike to mine and I can to here."

"Potter, you cannot be serious. And don't make that pun. "

"I am."

"You want to know about Muggles that badly?"

"Yes," he answered, looking wide-eyed at me. I studied his face; he looked honest enough, but you can never tell with him. Finally, I sighed.

"Fine," I said grudgingly. "I'll let you take a look at Tuney's books. But no more than that."

* * *

><p>"Tuney!" I called, heading back inside. I saw my mother and Mrs. Potter in the kitchen, happily making what it seemed to be a giant lamb chop from scratch—what happened to <em>finishing touches?—<em>and my dad Mr. Potter, presumably, in the garage, from the clanking and groaning sounds of metal being tinkered with, but I didn't see my sister. I peered in the bathroom, in case she was there, loading another two cans of hairspray into her bun, or piling even more makeup onto her face. She wasn't. I looked in the empty living room, and then the dining room, then even the basement, but she wasn't there. I turned to James.

"You stay put here. I'm going to her room."

"Why can't I come?" he asked.

I glared at him. "Because it's _a girl's room._"

"Point taken."

I opened my sister's door. Immediately, a cloud of fruity perfume engulfed me, making me gag. I stuck my head out the door for a few seconds, coughing and spluttering and wiping the tears from my eyes, while James looked at me strangely. After my nose and eyes had adjusted, I took a very deep breath and ventured in once more. It was as if my sense were being bombarded from all sides: the sickly sweet perfume; the eye socket-electrocuting—literally, I could feel my retinas burn—pink of the walls; the flashes from all her necklaces and rings and headbands. My head spinning, I looked around the room with one eye open, trying to find my sister in this mess of a room. I saw her thick university textbooks immediately, but not her actual person. _She won't mind if I borrow her books for a few minutes, right?_ I asked myself.

_Yes she would,_ I countered.

_She doesn't have to know,_ I told myself, _and besides, if she knows it's for James, she'll be begging me to let him borrow her books. _

_Fine_, the other part of me agreed, though a bit reluctantly so. I picked my way carefully to her desk and hefted the entire stack. Sagging a bit under the weight of it all, I blundered my way out of the room, careful to not tread on any of her possessions strewn about the floor. Heaving a sigh of relief then deeply inhaling normal, perfume-free air, I made it out into the living room and dumped the books in front of James.

"Here you go," I said, slumping onto the couch next to him. "You'd better be grateful."

"Wow, this is….advanced," he said, opening the maths textbook. "I was expecting something, uh, simpler."

"Why? Because Muggles aren't smart enough?" I retorted. "Well, try doing this!" I jabbed my finger at the title of the first page: Complex integrals. His brow furrowed as he squinted at the tiny figures.

"I see a one…and a two…and a horizontal bar with an 'e' with a tiny 'x' on the top of it," he said, looking up. "What do they mean?"

I flipped the page and showed him the two paragraphs on how to solve and derive the answer. "All you need to know is here. Good luck."

His mouth fell open. "But—what?"

I shrugged. "You asked to learn about them, and I'm granting you your wish. Now, stop at problem number ten and show me your answers afterwards."

His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, mouthing words that I couldn't hear. Finally, he threw up his hands and grabbed the book, promptly sticking his nose into the pages. I suppressed a smile. Looks like this is going to be fun.

* * *

><p>"I'm done," he said. I looked up from my book, startled. It's only been twenty minutes since I set him to the impossible task, yet he was looking at me with tired, but triumphant eyes.<p>

"All right," I set down my book dubiously. "Let's see what you've got here." I flipped to the back of the book for the answers and looked down at his sheet of paper. I could hardly read it, sloppy as it was. I supposed that wizards went exactly well-acquainted with a pencil. I narrowed my eyes and just barely managed to make out the first answer. To my immense shock, it matched the one in the book. I double-checked, to make sure that my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. The answers were still the same. I looked down the paper to the next one, in case that was a fluke. It wasn't. Suspiciously, I turned to look at him, and he held my gaze with steady, eager eyes.

"Did you look in the back of the book?" I asked. He looked confused for a second, until I shook the answers at him.

"Oh, no!" he answered. Again, he sounded honest, but _again_, you could never really tell. "I didn't even know they were there!"

"Hmm," I responded, my eyes moving down the paper. His answers were all correct. "How the hell did you do this then?"

"What do you mean?"

"It took Mum and Dad about five minutes to even begin to understand how the equations work; it took me ten. Yet, it took you less than it took my parents! And my mum's a college professor!" I looked unbelievingly at him. He looked a bit alarmed.

"All I did was read how to work the equation, then I just plugged the numbers into the formula! That's all I did, honest!"

"But—but this is calculus, James! It's for someone Tuney's age, and sometimes older! You can just march in here and get all the answers…."

"Why not?" he sounded really confused now.

"Oh never mind." I covered my eyes with an arm. "Are you sure you didn't look in the back of the book?" I asked again. "Positive?"

"I swear on my love for you that I didn't," he vowed. I grunted.

"All right then." I uncovered my face and looked at him. "Then I suppose….you're just incredibly smart."

"Finally you realize that," he sighed. "I've been trying to tell you for seven years!"

"I'm serious, and don't make that pun," I said. "You're smart. No one, and I repeat no one, can read a few lines, then solve something as complicated as this."

He was quiet, then, "This is a big deal, huh?"

I nodded. "Very. You _are_ smart, James. Maybe even to the point of being genius."

He snorted. "Did Lily Evans just call me a genius? All right, 'fess up. Who gave you the firewhiskey?"

I smacked the back of his head. "I'm not joking! Even Professor Vector would be impressed. After all, I _am_ his best student, and you solved this faster than I ever could."

"Stop it, Lily. You're making me blush." He muttered jokingly. I calmed my urge to curse him.

"Let's try something else," I suggested. "Umm…how about literature?"

"Sure," he agreed. "Let's take a look at them literature!"

I glared at him. He shrugged apologetically. Opening Tuney's slightly thinner literature book, I checked the table of contents for the hardest piece I could find, just to check that he indeed hadn't looked in the back for the answers. "Right, read this—" I turned to page number 394. "—and answer these questions." I pointed to the five short response answers at the bottom of the page.

To my disappointment, he epically failed on the literature. I suppose wizards aren't well-acquainted with sentence structure, plotline and author's motivation and things like that either.

"Okay, so you're a genius at math," I amended. "You can't be perfect."

"You're determined to make something out of nothing, aren't you?" he remarked.

"There isn't 'nothing'" I insisted. "You've got potential."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I want to sit at a desk doing integrals all day long," he yawned. At that moment, our mothers called,

"Dinner's ready!"

"We're doing more after dinner," I promised. His response? A huge groan.

"Lily!" he complained. "We don't need to get that in-depth—"

"Too late," I told him, smiling. "I'm not taking a no for an answer."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, what'd you think of James' newfound geniusness? I dunno, that idea just came into my mind and I stuck with it, although I have no idea where this is going. Help, anyone? Pelahnar, I'm nowhere near learning about integrals so if that part sounded wrong to you, blame it on my juvenileness. Oh, and I know Petunia seems sort of OOC, with her messy room and crush on James and stuff, but I'm thinking she's going to change when she meets Vernon's parents….Anyway, who's up for more appointments between James and Lily, or do you want to me fit everything into one night? Leave your thoughts and suggestions in a review!<strong>

**~Gella **


	4. History Lessons

**AN: ****Bloody hell, Pelahnar, you lost me after the first paragraph Dx How about we say James really **_**is**_** smart and turned to other sections of the book (but not the answer section) and found a review chapter about derivatives? Then he learned how to do derivatives and then figured out the integrals? Blimey, this is not making me looking forward to when I learn about this stuff.**

* * *

><p>"Well, I'm stuffed," Dorea declared for everyone around the table. And very well we should be. A lamb leg, several soups, a large ham and a whole basket of rolls later, we were all holding back burps and praying that the buttons on our pants wouldn't pop off. Mum looked up, surprised.<p>

"We haven't had dessert yet!" she bustled to the kitchen, and a second later came out with her famous homemade ice cream sundaes, a whole plate of them. "If you want seconds, just ask!"

Suddenly, everyone found room in their stomachs for just one more, and the sundaes were gone in a heartbeat. All except one. I looked at Tuney's empty spot sadly; she still hadn't returned from wherever she went, not even for the dinner. Dad didn't look too pleased either, and I took faith that he'll give her a good scolding when she gets back. With that thought settled, I turned back and tackled my ice cream.

"This is really delicious, Mrs. Evans," James said, setting down his spoon.

"The very best!" Dorea agreed cheerfully. "You have to teach me how to make this!"

Mum blushed under their praise. "You are being too kind," she repeated her earlier words. "And the compliments mustn't all go to me, either! Dorea here helped bake the rolls and make the broccoli cheese soup!"

It looked as if the adults were going to be at it for a while. I stood up and cleared my throat, and they all stopped in their admiration of each other. "May we please be excused?" I asked, kicking James under the table. "We've got something—"

"Of course, of course!" Mum looked delighted that I was finally giving James 'a chance'. "Do whatever you need to."

"Behave yourself, James," Charlus looked at his son. "The Evans family has a nice house and I'd be sorry to see it blown up." My parents' eyes widened at this.

"Dad! That was one time!"

"_Behave yourself_," Dorea warned. James gulped and we hurried out of there.

"Little Jamie-poo is scared of his Mummy, eh?" I smirked at him.

"Shove off, Lily. We really are going to do more of that Muggle work again, aren't we?"

I looked through the stack of textbooks on the living room table. "Hmm. What do you say we do a little history?"

"Oh, please no! Anything but that!" James begged. I knew he was remembering Professor Binns' long boring lectures about never-ending goblin rebellions and the number of times the International Law of Secrecy was breached. To be honest, history was one of my least favorite subjects too. Who needs to learn about long-dead blokes and their ideas and thoughts anyway?

"I know, James," I sighed. "But look on the bright side: you won't have to take notes!"

"I won't?" he looked up hopefully.

"Not at all! Instead, you'll memorize all those dates and names and wars and recite it word-for-word to me afterwards. Isn't that great?"

"You are evil," James moaned.

"But since you claim to love me, you will do what I ask, yes?"

"Yes," he agreed desolately. I smiled.

"Well, that's that. I'll leave you to it then!"

* * *

><p>James was in the middle of describing World War I and its effects on the participating countries when Dorea and my mum stuck their heads into the living room. "James? James, honey, it's time to go."<p>

We both froze. The heavy textbook balanced on my lap slid off and fell with a resounding crash onto my toes. I held back a stream of profanity and through watering eyes, peered at our mothers.

"Oh thank Merlin—!" James started to exclaim. I shot him a look and he immediately changed his tack. "—I mean, can we stay a little longer?"

Dorea looked bemused. "Well, all right then." She turned to my mum. "If that's all right with you and John, of course."

"Absolutely!" My mother beamed at me. "How about another fifteen, twenty minutes?"

"Perfect," Dorea smiled and they withdrew. I rubbed my swollen foot, and cast a healing spell. It gradually began to deflate.

"Where were we?" I asked. James held up the accursed history book. I scowled at it. "Well, we're moving on."

"You're not as cruel as I imagined," James remarked. I scowled at him too.

"It isn't out of thoughtfulness for your well-being, Potter. Mark my words, if that book dares to come anywhere near my toes again…." I finished by cracking my knuckles.

"First sign of madness: threatening inanimate objects," James said under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

"Good. All right, Potter. Let's see what we should do next…."

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Mum interrupted my lecture on the composers in the Baroque period with, "Lily, the Potters really do need to get going now. You and James can continue whatever you're doing some other time, all right?"<p>

"All right," I agreed grudgingly. "So, uh, I'll bike to your place, say, next Wednesday?"

"Of course! We'll be expecting you!" Dorea called over her shoulder. "James, come along now."

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "What have I gotten myself into?"

I pecked him on the cheek. "See you next Wednesday, then."

He looked dazed, his hand hesitantly touching the spot where my lips made contact. "Er, right. See you…see you next Wednesday."

A few moments after the telltale loud crack of Apparition sounded, my mum swept me up into her arms.

"Oh Lily! What did I tell you?" she cried. "This is perfect. I expect a wedding invitation within a year."

"MUM!" I shrieked. "It was only a kiss on the cheek!"

"And you're going over next week! Relationships grow fast, darling!"

"Dad!" I cried. "Mum's gone crazy!"

"Now, now, sweetie," Dad dismantled Mum's arms around me. "Surely that's going a bit too far—"

"Remember us, when we were young?" Mum giggled. "It was such a dream."

Dad smiled tenderly at her. "How can I forget?" he kissed her softly on the forehead. I sighed and headed up to my room. The moment I opened my door, a wave of arms and legs surrounded me. I muffled a yelp, clenching my hand around my wand before I realized it was only my friends.

"For the love of Merlin!" I croaked. "Next time you lot come for a surprise visit at bloody nine o'clock at night, at least give me a holler beforehand!"

"Sorry Lils," Emmy's voice whispered. "We'll do that next time."

"Never mind that, how was the dinner?" Marlene asked.

"Wait. _Muffliato_," I hissed. "All right. Now we can talk without my parents overhearing."

"So how was it?" Alice said. "Ouch, Marlene! That was my foot!"

"Sorry," Marlene mumbled. "_Lumos_."

I sighed and turned on the lamp on my desk. Alice, Marlene, and Emmy were crowded into my small room. "Where are Mary and Dor?"

"Dorcas has this Little League Quidditch game," Marlene rolled her eyes. "And Mary was visiting her aunt."

"Well, dinner was fine. James wanted to learn about Muggles, of all things, and we discussed a few Muggle school topics. Nothing much." I _accidently_ forgot to tell them about our appointment next Wednesday and my way of persuading James to keep up with the lessons.

"Oh," Emmy said. "So…you two didn't kiss or anything?"

"Bloody hell, Emmy! No!"

"Bloody hell? That's what I was going to say," Marlene gaped at me. I looked down too. Nothing was out of place, nothing was missing. Just shorts and a tank top, as usual. "Did you wear this to dinner?" Belatedly, I realized exactly what I was wearing and gulped.

"LILY MARIE EVANS!"

"Shh!" Alice shushed us. "I don't trust that _Muffliato_ spell."

"You wore this?" Marlene hissed, her eyes murderous. "I am going to murder you, Lily."

"Well, it was nice knowing you all. Give Mary and Dorcas my love, all right?" I sighed theatrically. "A quick, clean death, then, if you don't mind," I said to Marlene.

"What am I going to do with you, Lily?" she slumped back onto my pillows.

_At least she doesn't know about Wednesday,_ I thought to myself, _and most importantly, she doesn't know about the kiss._

* * *

><p>Next Wednesday arrived sooner than I thought, and just my luck for it to be the hottest day of the entire summer. I looked doubtfully at the scorching sun, then sighed and set my helmet on my head. Wheeling my new bike out of the garage, I called through the door, "See ya, sis!" As usual I got no response. I set down the sizzling sidewalk and let the wind dry the beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I passed the playground, and out of habit, searched for Sev. Then I looked away. I would never see Sev in that playground again. There was too much tension between us, and our Houses now, for us to be together. I pedaled harder, and Godric's Hollow came into view. I had always wondered how, in the first eleven years of my life, that I hadn't managed to discover this Wizarding village. Of course, there were Muggles there too, but it was known by a different name for them, Quagmire Court. Soon enough, I saw McKinnon Manor, which was seen as a modest little cottage for Muggles. I squinted and made out James' house. Even though he came from a long line of purebloods, he told me his father refused to call it a 'manor' or 'estate', though those names certainly did the façade justice. I walked the last few yards and leaned my bike on its kickstand against the gate. I was about to ring the little bell, but saw that the gate was open. Shrugging, I let myself in; they were expecting me anyway. However, I did knock and the door was opened by a bare-chested Sirius Black.<p>

"Oh, hey Evans." He said, apparently at ease with his shirtless-ness, letting me in. "Jamie boy is up in his room. Third on the left, second floor."

"Put on a shirt, Black," I said. He just grinned.

"Oi, Marlene! Look who is it!" he called into the house. My heart rose up to my throat. _Marlene_?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ahaha, bad cliffy at the end }:D Next time I talk to you through this story will be next year! Have a happy and safe New Years! Don't get pregnant and don't do drugs! Bye!<strong>

**~Gella**


	5. The Rather Pointless Lesson

"_Lily_?" Marlene voiced my shock out loud as she padded into the living room, dripping water with every step. She was clad in a scanty bathing suit, and I guessed that she had gone swimming. But the Potters didn't have a pool! I looked from her to Sirius, suddenly realizing the truth.

"Urgh!" I gasped. "If you two are going to be shagging downstairs, at least warn me through the door!"

"What are you _doing_ here?" Marlene completely ignored me.

"Well, what are _you_?" I asked, glaring down at the rug. "And Black, if you don't put a shirt on in the next five seconds, I will make you wish you never have been born."

"Fine," he groaned. "But it's so damn hot in here!"

"It is not," I informed him coldly, no pun intended.

"Not to someone who wasn't participating in some…physical activities, no," he agreed.

"Whatever those physical activities may be…"

"Lily, why didn't you tell me you were coming over?" Marlene, who had stood there the entire time, demanded. I gulped.

"Ohoho, lookie there! Is that a hippogriff?" As far-fetched as it may sound, Marlene and Sirius actually turned to look out the window. I rushed upstairs as fast as I can, reaching the third door on the left just as they realized the scam.

"This isn't over, Lily!" Marlene shouted. I slammed James' door and collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily.

"Lily?" A voice asked. James appeared from the bathroom, a towel slung around his neck. His _wet_ neck, might I add, which connected to his _wet_ torso, which connected to his _wet_ stomach, which connected to a thankfully clothed part of him. But, no, _he was not wearing a shirt_.

"Were you participating in physical activities too?" I asked, squeezing my eyes shut. _Must not think about James Potter's muscles, must not think about James Potter's muscles…_

"What? What're you talking about? I came out of the shower."

_Must not think about James Potter in the shower, must not think about James Potter in the shower…_

"Lily, are you all right?" he came closer, apparently investigating why I was half passed out on his carpet, inhaling and exhaling very deeply through my mouth.

"What? Oh yes I'm fine. Just peachy. Can't possibly be better," I blabbed. "Can you please just put on a shirt?"

I could see his smirk even under my closed eyelids. "Well, if that's what's bothering you…"

When I opened my eyes again, he was wearing a Gryffindor Pride T-shirt, still smirking. I breathed a sigh of relief and sat up, my back against the wall.

"Before we get started, do you mind telling me why Sirius was half-naked and Marlene in a bathing suit when you don't have a pool?"

"Oh, you know. She comes around and uh, I hear scuffles and stuff…." He scratched the back of his neck. "To put it bluntly, they do what they do."

"Ah."

"Yep."

"Well, let's get started for today's lessons."

"Where're the books?" he asked, looking around. "Not that I miss them or anything."

"Tuney has her summer classes today, so I couldn't borrow them. Instead, we're going to learn another aspect of Muggle life," I told him.

"Do I want to know what it is?" he asked nervously.

"You don't exactly have a choice. We're learning about their appliances." I told him brightly.

His eyes lit up. "Like that toaster thingy you showed me last week?"

"Exactly. You know that a plug connects the object to the outlet, supplying it with energy called electricity for the appliance to work. Now, let's advance to others. Tell me, what does a blender do?" I asked, settling down on the thick carpet.

"A blender? I suppose it, er…blends things?"

"Yep," I said. "It can also grind, chop, and puree. Muggles use it to make smoothies and things like that."

"How come you know so much about blenders?" he asked, lounging back on his bed.

I snorted. "Believe me, when you've made coffee for your father practically since you were born, you pick up on the lingo pretty fast."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Didn't give me a choice there, did you?"

He stuck out his tongue at me. "Why do I need to learn about their appliances?"

"Well you wanted to learn about Muggles. Their appliances are a part of their daily life."

"Technically, I said I wanted to learn about Muggle and their schoolwork. And since you haven't got the books today, why don't we have a day off?" he asked hopefully.

I rolled my eyes. "Good try, Potter."

"I had to," he sighed.

"And you'll be glad to hear that for once it actually worked. Let's go take a break." I stood up and stretched, though it's hardly been five minutes.

"But it's only been five minutes!" he echoed my thoughts.

"I'm know, James!" I bounded out the door. "But I don't feel like sitting around in your dusty room—"

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "The house-elves clean it every week!"

"—and telling you about Muggle appliances. Let's go outside."

"You want to go through the back door?" he suggested. "In case Sirius and Marlene are at it again."

"Good idea," I said gratefully. Anything to put off the inevitable confrontation. We peeked into the living room, and although the pair wasn't there, the bathroom door was ajar and we hurried away from it, hands clapped over mouths.

"Those two disgusts me," I muttered, sitting on a stone bench in the backyard garden. "And you say she comes over every day?"

"She might as well as be the third Hogwarts student in my house," he agreed. I shuddered, imagining what it feels like to have those two in your house every day.

"So what are we going to do out here?" I asked, swinging my legs and looking around.

"We could play Quidditch," he suggested. "Though you'll have to use the spare brooms we've got. And they aren't the fastest things."

"We're not playing Quidditch," I said firmly, remember the last time I had dared get on a broom. From his grin I knew he was thinking the same thing.

"We can just sit and talk," he said, sitting down next to me, resting his right ankle on his left knee.

"About what?" I flinched slightly when his arm touched my skin, but it was only to rest his elbow on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. He persisted, and I moved a bit ways away. He moved too, this time closer, and did it again. "Stop!" I cried. "I'm not your elbow-rest."

"Then would you rather I do this?" I felt him put his arm around me.

"Neither," I retorted. "Keep your hands to yourself, Potter."

"Is that a Muggle schoolteacher line?" he smirked.

"As a matter of fact it is. And if you don't I'll give you detention," I warned.

"What, you're going to make me go sit in a corner?" he snorted.

"At least I'll get the bench to myself then," I laughed, playfully shoving him off. He toppled, head-first, into the flower bed, and didn't move. "James, get up," I rolled my eyes. His response was a grunt of pain. "James?" I asked, alarmed that I had gone too far. "James. Quit joking around."

"Ouch," he groaned. I slid off the bench, kneeling by his side.

"James, come on. A little push like couldn't have possibly hurt." I started to pull him up, but he pulled me down. "You're not hurt at all," I hissed. He grinned.

"No, that I'm not," he gave one last tug and my knees gave out, which caused me to fall on top of him. Sirius chose that moment to walk through the doors, pulling Marlene along with him.

"What are you lovebirds up to?" he raised his eyebrow at us, on the ground. I flushed, scrambling up and dusted the dirt off my shorts. James turned in the soil, uprooting several blooms, to face his best friend.

"You're hardly one to talk, Padfoot," he mimicked Sirius' eyebrow raise at Marlene. "Next time, you might want to try closing the door."

"We chose to leave it open," was his snarky response, "so you and Evans would know what you're missing out on."

"Enough, Black. I'm going inside."

"Oh, Evans, don't be a spoilsport. I was only joking," he winked at me. I sighed, but sat down on the bench again. James hoisted himself up beside me. I glared at him and went to sit on the swing.

"So Lily," Marlene began. "Care to tell us why you're here today?"

"I was going to bike to your place but I ah, mistook James' house for yours," I mumbled, giving her a hopeful smile, which slowly wilted under her steady stare. "All right, fine. You want the whole story? You better sit down."

* * *

><p>"…and that's why I'm here today. Happy now?" I finished, crossing my legs.<p>

"So….let me get this straight. You're teaching James about Muggles, yet we find you sprawled on the ground, one on top of the other—"

"That was an accident!" I as good as yelled.

"Accident, huh?" Marlene didn't sound too convinced.

"Break's over! We've a lesson to finish!" I dragged James inside. "See you later!"

"Ours friends are bloody idiots," I dumped him on the carpet outside of his room.

"You said we've got a lesson to finish?" he rubbed his head where I'd dropped him. "It's not all toasters and blenders again, is it?"

"Honestly, James. I said that to get out of there! I really don't have a clue what we should do next," I confessed. "And when I do get an idea, you should bike over instead."

"Why?"

"Because my family are Muggles?"

"Oh, right! There's a, uh, small problem though."

"What? Don't tell me you don't know how to ride a bike."

"Teach me."

I gaped at him. "Did you just say that…that you don't know how to ride a bike?"

"Yes. So you have to teach me."

"Can you fly over?"

"Can't. Parents don't let me use my broom during the summer, unless for Quidditch."

I slumped back, against the wall. "Well, I sure hope you're a fast learner."

* * *

><p>"You might want training wheels first," I said, magicking a pair of smaller wheels onto my bike. I just prayed that it would come off later. "Now, you mount it—up you go—and ride!"<p>

"How?" he called over his shoulder, sliding downhill on the sidewalk outside of his house. A second later, I heard a loud crash.

"Oh Merlin," I sighed, pulling James up from the bike and the wreck that was Marlene's Muggle mailbox. "_Reparo_," I added, turning the crumbled metal into the box it was.

"That really hurt," he complained. My eyes widened at the blood dripping from his knee. I covered my nose and breathed through my mouth, and healed the wound.

"James, are you sure about this?" I asked. "It really is rather dangerous, trying to learn it…"

"I can do it," he reassured me. "I just need something to cushion my knees."

"Right. Come on." I pushed my bike back to the front of his house, ignoring the stabs in my heart at the sight of the scuff marks on the brand-new paint, and set my helmet on his head. Then I conjured a pair of elbow pads and another pair of knee pads, gently strapping it on. "That'll have to do for now," I said, trying not to laugh at how simply _ridiculous_ he looked.

"Let's do this," he mounted the bike again, and thankfully the kickstand was still down.

"Wait, get off for a minute," I frowned at the seat. "You're taller than me, so I should probably raise the seat a bit higher." After much elbow grease, I managed to set the stubborn seat into a height good enough. "All right, to move forward, you pedal, like this, and if you want to stop, you can stop it with your feet or you can squeeze the brakes, up on the handlebar here."

"Pedal to move, brakes to stop. Got it." he said, already making to mount yet again.

"And there's a matter of balance to it!" I yelled as he took down the street again. Maybe it was the training wheels, but he didn't crash this time as he rode back to me.

He rode back and forth a few more times, and when I was sure he's got it, I took the training wheels off. Thankfully, they came off without a scratch. Then I sent him on his way.

He crashed again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hehe, James learning how to ride a bike is interesting. A seventeen-year-old with training wheels? HAHAHAHAHA it's all right James we're not gonna laugh at ya xD I wrote a songfic! It's based on the song Someone Like You, by Adele. Check it out if you want to, but if not, perfectly fine. Since today's the last day of break, I'll updating even less often, sadly. I'm already looking forward to spring break xD<strong>

**~Gella**


	6. Interludio

Well, it took most of the afternoon, and a _lot_ of injuries, but we did it. When it was time for me to leave, James was riding smoothly, though my bike had suffered. Luckily I was able to fix the scratches and the punctured tire (when James accidently rode over a thick nail stranded on the sidewalk) and left it with him, along with the protecting pads and my helmet.

"How are you getting home?" he asked as I wheeled my bike onto the front porch.

I stopped. "I haven't thought about that," I admitted. "I can walk, I guess."

"A two-mile walk on your own?" he asked.

"Yeah. What's wrong with that?"

"Isn't that sort of dangerous?"

"I know the neighborhood, James. I'm not going to get lost."

His brow furrowed. "That's not what I meant. There are other….factors."

I snorted. "Like a homeless old bloke jumping out from behind a tree and trying to molest me?"

"That's the general idea, yes," he agreed, running his hand through his hair. "I'll come with you."

"I'm more worried about tripping over a rock and skinning my knee than being raped, to be honest."

"I'm coming along," he said. That settled the matter.

"Then how are _you_ going to get home?" I asked as we set down the sidewalk.

He grinned. "I can Apparate. You can too, if you dare."

"What do you mean, if I dare?" I blustered. "I passed the test!"

"But have you actually done it?" he countered. "Outside of school, I mean."

"No…"

"Exactly. And if you get Splinched, your parents won't know how to heal it, and your arm or leg or whatever body part is it will be unattached and you'll lose a lot of blood _and_ you'll be stuck as a cripple for the rest of your life."

"If you wanted to me to walk you could've just said so," I sighed. "Well, let's go then."

We set down the cobbled road, our trainers crunching across the dry gravel. James casually slung an arm around my shoulder. I threw it off.

"Stop. Your arm's all heavy and sweaty and you smell bad." I ducked out of reach. Now it was his turn to snort.

"I do not. I just took a shower, if you remember."

Oh yeah, I remember all right. The image of him shirtless brought beads of sweat to _my_ forehead. "Did you know," I said, turning to walking backwards, "that if you put extra weight on a person they'll stay that height? Do you want me to be this short forever?"

He shrugged, kicking a rock out of the way before I could trip on it. "And did you know that if a person falls and lands on their backside, there's a possibility that her arse would never be the same again? Do you really want me to endure the pain of looking at your deformed bum forever?"

"Then don't look at it in the bloody first place!"

"Kind of hard not to, when you're always storming away from me and all that and even when you storm, it looks nice."

I flushed. "I get it, you're just too lazy to let your arm hang by your side, like a normal person." Nevertheless, I turned around before what he said could really happen. I liked the shape of my bum the way it is now, thank you very much.

"Normal?" he joked. "There's such a thing called normal?"

"If there is, you wouldn't know," I retorted, shoving his arm off yet again. He placed it back on. "I will kick you," I warned. "I'm no Dorcas, but I can still kick pretty damn hard."

"I thought we had agreed on no kicking whatsoever the last time," he muttered, shifting slightly away from me, his hand drifting to the spot where Dorcas _had_ kicked him last time.

"Unless it's consensual. And I count this consensual."

"I'm just doing what someone _normal_—" his fingers drew quotation marks in the air. "—would do."

"Oh, you think claiming to love someone then teasing the hell out of them every chance you get is normal?" I had meant it as a joke, but his face clouded over. I sighed. "Then when that someone teases you back, you immediately get all sad and defensive—"

"I'm not sad or defensive!" He exclaimed. "I was just…thinking."

"Even worse!"

That broke him out of whatever mood swings he was experiencing. With a fake snarl, he advanced towards me.

"Ex_cu_se me?" he growled, drawing out the 'u'.

"You're excused," I laughed, shoving him off the sidewalk. He didn't fall and shoved me back.

"You're going to pay for that!"

"Oh, I'm so scared now!"

We tussled around for a bit, exchanging snippy comments and messing with each other's hair. It wasn't until I turned back to retrieve my shoe—which James had pulled off my foot in an attempt to discover whether I'm ticklish or not—did I noticed that we were by the playground. Inside an overgrown old hedge, a dark pair of eyes met mine, and as I stifled a scream, it whipped out of sight.

James saw it too. He whirled around with his wand out, a real snarl on his face. "Lily? Did you see that?"

"S-see what?" my voiced wavered, and I pretended to be busy with the shoelaces.

"Snape," he spat. "He was there."

"You must've imagined it," I said lightly. "There's no way he could be out here."

"Right." His voice was tense and I glanced up.

One look was enough. Anger and hurt swirled around in his eyes, but he let it go and extended a hand to help me up. "Now do you see what I mean about other factors?" he tried to copy my light tone, but his words were short and clipped. I shivered, knowing, _now_, exactly what he meant. I wondered if any of his _other_ friends were hanging around here, and another shudder involuntarily passed through me. Looking back again, I saw nothing, but even now, in the bright sunlight, it was easy to imagine the corner of a dark cloak slipping around the hedge.

"I never realized things was that bad," I said quietly. The grim set of James' jaw told me just how bad. I had only heard faint, vineyard rumors about the beginnings of a war, and had never put any stock in them, but it was apparently much, much worse.

"A few weeks ago," he told me softly, "an uncle on my dad's side was done in by _them._ It was horrible. His house was totally destroyed and his body was all mangled up—"

"Stop," I said in a strangled voice. It _was_ horrible. And to know that _he's_ one of them too. Tears swam behind my vision, but I blinked them back. I don't cry, especially over things long past the perimeter of my control, and especially not about _him_. _He's gone,_ I repeated the old mantra that barely kept me sane after accidentally discovering the mark burned into his left arm last year. _He's gone, he's gone, he's gone._ We were in front of my house now, and I hadn't realized that the comfortable weight on my shoulders all this time was indeed James' arm. With a small but controlled sniff, I turned to face him, trying my best to smile.

"So, Friday," I said. "And you better not crash my bike."

"I won't," he smiled back, a true smile, unlike my weak imitation.

"Want to come in for a while?" I invited. He shook his head.

"My parents are probably home by now. I'll see you Friday, Lily." He turned on the spot, and a loud crack later, he was gone. I dragged my heavy feet inside, and my mother and father rushed out.

"What was that crack?" Mum asked, a slightly worried look on her face. "You didn't hurt yourself or tip the bench over, did you?"

"What? Oh no, that's just James. He walked me home," I explained and immediately wished I hadn't. Mum looked like she was in heaven.

"That's downright gentlemanly of him, that is," she told me, clutching my hand excitedly. "Why, your father used to walk me home after our outings too—"

As grave as my newfound information was, I smiled a bit at my classic Muggle parents. At least there will always be a source of comfort left in the world for me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, I added some angst and darkness into this chapter because it was getting too fluffy for me. Hope you still enjoyed it though!<strong>

**~Gella**  
><strong>PS: What other subjects should they try?<strong>


	7. Chemistry and Potions Do Not Go Together

If I thought Wednesday arrived soon, then Friday positively came in a blink of an eye. But somehow I still managed to accomplish some things. I tutored Tuney, I cleaned the house, and I mowed the lawn. And I also wrote down some lesson plans, if you will, for James. All in a day's work, no? So when he showed up at my door two days later, I had no doubt in mind what we were going to do that day.

"Thank Merlin you didn't crash my bike," I sighed with relief as I wheeled it into my garage.

"That's the first thing you say to me?" he demanded. "No 'hello', no welcoming hug, no kiss on the cheek?"

"Would a kick suffice?" He didn't answer. "Well, hello there, Potter. Glad to see that you survived…and didn't crash my bike."

"Honestly," he grumbled. "You'd think that damn thing's your firstborn son or something…"

"He's my baby," I petted the handlebars lovingly. "Right, let's get on with today's lessons!"

"You're mental," he muttered as he followed me inside. I decided to ignore that.

"Tell me, Potter," I said, settling down on the couch, "what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Powdered root of what to an infusion of what?" he asked, bewildered.

"Clearly that head of yours isn't carrying anything substantial," I smirked before continuing. "Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"The stomach of something…the stomach of a goat, I think it was…?"

"And I thought you wouldn't open a book," I said mildly, cranking my brain. "Okay. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Dammit, Lily!" he cried. "I didn't know this was going to turn into a Potions exam!"

"It's the stuff we learned in first year, James."

"Exactly! How the hell do you expect me to remember all that? No one does!"

"I do," I countered, offended.

"Wait. Please don't tell me we're doing Potions today," he begged. "It's not even Muggle!"

"We're not," I told him, strolling over to my cauldron and ingredients piled on the living room floor. "We're doing chemistry."

"Oh. What's chemistry?" he pronounced the word carefully, slowly rolling the syllables around.

"It's when you pour two substances together and they make something new," I gave him a very crude outline and peeled open my bag. "But since I haven't got the right stuff, we're using Potions ingredients instead."

"Great," he rubbed his hands together. "Let's do this!"

His enthusiasm scared me a little. Remembering how he and Sirius had almost blown up his house, I was more than a bit wary to let him near the cauldron in fear of spontaneous combustion. And even more, I had _no_ idea how chemistry is supposed to go.

"So, you take this—" I shoved some angelfish spines into his hands. "—and put it with this—" eyeball of a toad. "—and into the cauldron it goes."

"You're sure?" he asked nervously.

"Let's hope, for your sake and mine, that I am," I said, and watched as he dropped both items into the boiling water. We both waited with bated breath. A few moments passed and other than a small hiss, nothing happened. We let our breath out slowly and examined the result.

"It doesn't look too bad," I said thoughtfully.

"Not as bad as I thought it would be," James agreed. "Let's try another—"

A black cloud of putrid air burst from the cauldron and engulfed his head. Thankfully, it evaporated in the air, leaving behind a trace of something that smelled like—

"BLOODY GOD THAT'S TERRIBLE!" he gagged, running outside, hands on his knees, gulping in fresh air. I tentatively sniffed the vestiges lingering in the air and immediately joined him outside. We both sat there for a moment, rejoicing in the pureness of the air outside.

"At least it didn't explode," I offered in a small voice. He wasn't recovered enough to talk yet and gave a strange nod combined with a small, choking noise. I thumped him on the back. He jerked away, coughing.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he asked hoarsely.

"Of course not," I said crossly. "I was only trying to help—"

"That thing! It smelled disgusting!"

"Oh, that. Sorry," I shrugged.

"We're not going to do more, are we?"

To be honest, I wasn't exactly thrilled either. But I couldn't just let my lessons plans go to waste, and neither could I submit to James Potter. I sighed. If anything's the death of me, it'll be my pride…

"I'm the teacher," I told him shortly. "Go get a drink. Then meet me in the living room."

"Dammit, Lily," he growled, but otherwise followed my directions. Plugging my nose, I removed the stench from the air and ran into my sister's room. Grabbing a random bottle of pink death—that's a good name, I thought approvingly—I sprayed some in the air. Instead of the smell of Merlin knows what before, it now reeked of… Lilac Blossom, said the label. Oh well. Better that than _that_. James returned from the kitchen and looked at me expectantly.

"What do you want to do?" I asked him. He looked startled by the question.

"I thought you were the teacher?" he replied.

"Good teachers accept input from students," I answered. "So, what _do_ you want to do?"

A wicked grin lit his face. "You really want me to answer that?"

"Unfortunately for me, I have to let you answer that."

"Does it have to be…educational?" he asked.

"Yes." I knew he could still make up something within that criterion, but the chances were now much slimmer. All my hopes were crushed when the first words out of his mouth were,

"Give me a massage."

"A WHAT?" I screeched.

"A massage," he repeated. "Y'know, educating me on the wonders of, er, massages?"

"No, Potter. No. I will not give you a massage. I will not, I will never—"

"You sure you don't want to get some of this?" he grinned, pulling up the hem of his shirt.

"Positive. I'm not going to give you a massage."

"A good teacher accepts input from students," he reminded me. I frowned at his innocent smile.

"Go find someone else to rub your arse then," I told him icily. "I'm sure they'll be clamoring to have you shove your behind in their faces."

"I was joking," he huffed. "Okay, so a massage is out. What do you want me to tell you I want to do?"

"Well, what do you want to learn about?" I asked. "Something that doesn't include physical contact between the two of us, preferably."

"Well, there went all my ideas. So how about, erm, music?"

"Music?" I laughed. "Why music?"

"Well, there's got to be more to it than just wrock, right?"

"Duh."

"Then teach me about it."

"I just never thought a knucklehead like you would be interested in music." I flipped through my plans in my head. None of them included music. "How about I let you listen to some songs on the radio?"

"What's a radio?" he asked immediately. In response, I set down our ancient radio on the table and popped one of my dad's classic opera cassettes into the gap. His forehead crinkled.

"What's this supposed to be?" he asked after a few minutes of ear-popping sopranos.

"It's what you wanted to learn about, Muggle music!" I said brightly.

"I didn't know that it was quite this high…"

I paused it, and put in another one. A baritone man's voice filled the house.

"Er…"

"Not your thing either? Then I'm afraid Muggle music is out of your league." I stacked the cassettes in a neat pile. "Now what?"

"Muggle music isn't all like that, is it?" he said, studying the label. "Aha! This opera is from…1869," he said smugly. "So modern music must be different."

"Modern music?" I snorted. "Thing is, there really isn't much to be taught about _modern_ music."

"There has to be something," he argued.

"Look, if you want to learn about that so badly, then get tickets to one band or another. They're always holding concerts in London," I said, pulling a face. I wasn't much for the music of today. His face lit up.

"That's it!" he said happily. "We go to Muggle London and listen to a concert!"

"That is so not happening," I said through gritted teeth.

"Whatever happened to accepting input from students?" he cried.

"One, where are we going to _get_ the tickets? And two, if my parents let me go out alone with a nutter like you, I'm disowning them."

"I'll get tickets for us, don't worry," he said confidently. "As for the second part…I'll work that out somehow too."

"Of course you will," I sighed. "In the meantime, let's do something _productive_, yes?"

"Such as?"

"Chemistry!" I said with fake cheeriness. "Nah, just pulling your wand. Let's _read_!"

Very seriously, he said, "I think I'd rather do chemistry."

"Good luck!" I called cheerfully, grabbing my book and curling up on the couch. "Just don't make my cauldron explode, please. It's such a bother to clean up the pieces."

"Some teacher you are," he sat down next to me, closing his eyes. "Can we call this free time? And just do whatever we want?"

"No," I said firmly. "It is reading time, and you're supposed to read."

"I swear, you are purposefully making this miserable for me."

"It's really that obvious?" I pouted. "And here I thought I was making good progress on being subtle."

"You don't happen to have Quidditch Through the Ages here, do you?" he asked. I shook my head and he went back to brooding, a painful expression on his face.

"Honestly James, reading isn't that bad!" I insisted, shoving another book under his nose. "Here; start on this. It's about two people who fall in love, although one can't stand the other—" I caught him staring at me. "It's Tuney's," I added hastily. An amused little smile was forming at the corner of his mouth now.

"A story about two people who fall in love, even though one despises the other?" he repeated. Only then did it sink in.

I groaned, sliding down to the floor. "Kill me now."

"I'll read that," he said, reaching out for the book.

"Of _course_ you will."

"So," he said, flipping through the pages, "where's the part that says she fell in love with him? I just want to read that little bit."

"Who said it was _she_ who fell in love with _him_?" I smirked.

"So it's he who fell in love with her?" he asked. "Well, been there, done that."

"It's not that either," I took the book from him and pointed out the key words on the front flap. "Do you know what homosexual means, James?"

"Yes, why? Oh! Ohh," His eyes widened and he gingerly set the book on the table, as if distancing himself from it. I raised my eyebrows at that.

"It's a beautiful story, if you would just read it…"

"I'll take Twelve Fail-safe Ways to Charm Witches any day."

"Twelve Fail-safe Ways to _WHAT_?"

"Sirius gave it to me," he explained. "He swears on the life of his mum that it works."

"Then it probably doesn't work at all."

"It does! Look where he is, now." James said.

"Is that a hint of jealousy I detect in O Mighty James Potter's tone?"

"Shove off, Lily."

"So you're still a virgin?" I didn't even bother hiding my incredulity.

He got mad. "_Shove_ off!"

"Does Sirius know that?" I pushed my luck just a bit further…

"Know what?"

…And a bit further…"That his best mate has never gotten laid before? That his bloody twelve ways aren't working nearly as well as he thinks?"

"Oh, he knows all right. I haven't had a single moment of peace without him bringing up that, in one obnoxious way or the other."

…And just a little further than that. "Quite the affectionate relationship."

"He doesn't really mean what he says, mind," he added. "It's just like women's compliments to each other, only they don't mean that either."

I burst out laughing. "Oh, James. You're a genius!"

He scowled. "Not that genius thing again!"

"It was a compliment!"

"But you didn't really mean that, did you?"

"Nope."

And we started laughing again.

* * *

><p>"Next week, Monday, all right?" I asked.<p>

"Sure," he said. "And ask your parents if you can go to London with me."

"You weren't serious about that, were you?" I gasped.

"It'll be fun!" he pleaded. "Just ask them!"

"But they'll think it's a—a _date_!"

"All the better, then."

"JAMES!"

"Fine, fine. Just ask them if you could go to London with some friends."

"You're asking me to lie to my parents?"

"No, I'm just stretching the truth a little. You do count me as a friend, right?" he asked.

I didn't answer his question. "If I have to, then you're asking too. I'll die if I ask them alone."

"All right," he agreed. "Can you guarantee that your dad won't beat me up if I ask?"

"I don't think he will. But he's a little touchy on the subject, y'know?"

"Let's better hope he likes me then."

A little while later, I heard the slamming of car doors, signaling the return of my parents. As usual, I met them with a cup of tea each. James greeted them warmly, already the model boyfriend—holy Merlin, not in _that_ sense. He was polite, is what I meant. Then, as my mum was making dinner, I dragged him into the living room, where my dad sat watching a replay of last night's rugby game on the telly.

"Dad?" I asked hesitantly. He looked up and smiled, inviting me to go on. "I was wondering if—" I cleared my throat. "—if I could go to London with—"

James, bless his soul, sensed what was happening and took over. "Mr. Evans, I'm going to London with some friends on Monday, and we wanted to bring Lily along too, if that's all right with you…"

"Oh, of course!" my dad beamed at the two of us. "I trust my Lily-flower with you."

"Dad, we're not going alone. We're going with some other friends too—"

"Thank you, Mr. Evans!" James cut across me. "And don't worry; I won't let anything happen to her."

"There's a good boy," Dad said heartily. "Won't you stay for dinner?"

"I'm afraid not. My parents are expecting me, you see," he explained. "Some other time, perhaps."

"Well, send my regards to Charlus and Dorea, will you?"

"Of course, sir," James said. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if he actually bowed to my father.

"Don't be so formal, now. Bob's the name. If we get acquainted now, it'll save all the trouble when you two officially become a couple," he winked in my direction.

"Glad to see that you two enjoy a god joke at my expense. James, you better get going now. See ya, Dad." I dragged James out again.

"Bye, Mr. Evans!" he waved, not seeming to take up on calling my dad 'Bob'.

"You're good. He didn't even ask where we're going." I commented. "My dad probably wants to marry you himself now. Have you done this before?"

"Of course not. It all comes with being a Potter," he grinned. I practically shoved him out the door. He lingered in the doorway, seemingly waiting for something.

"Good_bye_, James," I emphasized the word. He didn't go. "What is it?"

"Well, if you're not going to make a move, I suppose I'll just have to take it upon myself to do so, then." He leaned forward and brushed a kiss against my cheek, then immediately turned on the spot and Disapparated. At the same time, a bright flash went off behind me, and I whirled around to see my dad holding up his camera, grinning proudly.

"Dad," I growled. "Delete the picture, now."

"What picture?" he tried to look innocent. I stalked over to him and jabbed my finger at the screen.

"That picture, oh father of mine! Delete it, _please_!"

"I don't see what's so bad about it," he remarked. "Your hair isn't in its usual frizzy state, and the Potter kid is as dapper as ever. If I hadn't known what would happen afterwards, I might even say that you two make a cute couple. Right, Marie?" he said to my mom, who was peeking over our shoulders.

"You look lovely!" At the sight of my face, she added, "oh, don't look so horrified, Lils. It's something for you two to look at and marvel over when you're both old and wrinkled, like me and your father."

"Oh, all right," I relented. "As long as you don't frame it and hang it up on the wall or something."

Dad turned to look at Mum, a mischievous light in his eyes that I had never seen before. I don't think I liked it.

"What are you two on about?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing at all, honey!" Mum bustled away. "Set the dinner, dear. Dinner is in five minutes!"

Why, oh why, do I think they're up to something?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow, that is the longest chapter I have ever written. If there are any mistakes or typos, it's because I haven't got the patience to sit still and proofread it all. Happy Chinese New Year, y'alls, <strong>**kung hei fat choi****! The Year of the Dragon is here! **

**~Gella-is-happy-because-that's-her-zodiac sign  
><strong>


	8. Muggle London

On Sunday, an owl landed at my window. It belonged to Marlene, and it was with wary trepidation to which I approached it. It seemed to not need a reply, and after a brief drink from Tunia's tray, it went on its way again. I flattened the parchment out on my desk. My eyes narrowed.

"Dammit, Marlene," I groaned, crumbling and tossing it in my trashcan. "Do you really have to do this?"

I received no answer, obviously. I swore again and lumbered into the bathroom to take a shower—the letter did say that she was arriving in half an hour, after all.

True to her word, I had just barely stepped out of my room, hair dripping, when the doorbell rang. I prepared myself and pulled open the door, plastering a happy grin on my face. Without so much as a greeting, she hauled me up to my room and sat me down on the bed, like a prisoner in my own house.

"Spill." She commanded. I looked suspiciously up at her.

"About what?"

"Going to London with James."

"How d'you know about that?" I cursed my words for the heat they showed.

"Sirius," she said simply. "Those two are as close as we are—or _were_, I should say."

"Damn. It." I growled. "Marlene McKinnon, I love you. I hate you."

"Someone's got the bipolar disorder," she said lightly. Then her expression changed. "Spill. Now." She repeated, copying my growl. I closed my eyes and told her everything.

"Oh, Lily," she said after I finished. "You're finally giving in, I see."

"What?" I shouted. "No! This is purely for educational purposes…"

She shook her head. "Don't kid yourself, Lils. It's a date and you know it."

"Are you _trying_ to kill me?" I demanded.

"No, I'm trying to convince you that you really do have feelings for James Potter."

I threw my hands up. "Same thing!"

"At least you admitted it," she told me playfully, eyes sparkling. I gaped back.

"What? I did no such thing!" One look at her face told me all I needed to know. "I swear, if you say one word about this to him—"

"Then we'd better plug our ears for the joyous shout that's sure to come after."

"Marlene," I begged. "Please don't."

She pursed her lips. "But the thing is, Lily dear, you don't even know how you feel about him. It's up to me to make you realize it."

"It is not," I said curtly. "Even if I do—which I do _not_—I'll realize it in my own time, thanks."

"Promise me you won't let your pride come first," she countered. "Swear on it."

"What, you want me to make the Unbreakable Vow or something?"

"No," she said after a moment's consideration. "No, a pinky swear will do."

And for a moment, we were kids again, bound, once more, by the legacy of the solemn pinky swear.

The feeling didn't last long, and Marlene immediately snapped back into her fashion-conscious, efficient, mothereffing crazy self. The next hour was full of clothes and arguments and things thrown at the opposite wall. I lost this war, but fortunately, established some lines that can_not_ be crossed. Marlene accepted that there was nothing she could do to force me into something that didn't reach my knees and I accepted that I had to wear whatever she wanted me to. Finally, energy depleted and willpower even lower, I succumbed to her 'advice'.

"Now remember," she urged before leaving, "the white shirt—"

"Yes, the white shirt," I repeated after her dully.

"—and the jeans. The nice, dark blue pair."

"Even if I'll suffocate to death in this weather? Why not?"

"Well, you shot down that cute skirt—oh, come on, Lily, be positive. London isn't that hot anyway."

"Oh, of course. It's only a few degrees below a hundred after all, no big deal."

She ignored me. "Flats, okay? And no socks. Absolutely no socks at all."

"Do you think I'm stupid? Socks?"

"You have worn them with flats before," she reminded me.

"Oh, whatever! You know, you don't know for sure that I'll just wear one of my dad's old construction shirts with a pair of beige pants and some sneakers—" I stopped there; the expression on Marlene's face was enough to stop a train. "All right, I'll wear the stupid shirt and the stupid jeans and the stupid flats," I muttered. "Now bye."

I shoved her out and closed the door before she could advise me to wear something like a—Merlin forbid—scarf as well. I went back to my room, glaring at the clothing laid out on my bed. A few minutes passed and the cotton didn't dissolve, like I hoped it would. Resigned to my fate, I abandoned my fruitless stare and spent the rest of the day cooped up in my room, silently fuming.

* * *

><p>Remember the feeling I had about my parents being up to something? Well, I was right. And it wasn't exactly a pleasant way for me to find out either.<p>

Monday morning, there was me in my cute, preppy outfit, a small breakfast laid out for James, and The Thing. They didn't even try to make it inconspicuous, oh no. It was right in the middle of our mantel, and you'd be blind to miss it—thank Merlin it was facing away from the doorway though. James arrived at around ten, after both my parents and Tuney had left. Just as well, too.

"Hi," I said, letting him in. "I take that you got the tickets?"

"Yes, I did," he told me smugly, waving the two slips of paper. Great.

"Did you have breakfast already?"

"Yes," he confessed, "but I've still got room for more."

"Of course you do," I sat down opposite to him, poking at my cold eggs, eyes wandering aimlessly around the room and trying not to let them dawdle too long on him. Whenever our eyes met, mine would always look away first.

"You spiked your hair," I noticed, surprised. He shrugged in response, a small redness creeping up his neck.

"I dunno, I heard some Muggles do it…" he trailed off. "Sirius told me to," he said finally. I nodded; that made a lot of sense.

"I like it," I smiled. "Well, better than its usual state, anyway."

He laughed, one hand automatically reaching up to ruffle his hair. A sharp spike met his hand, and he winced. I tried not to grin at that.

"Finished?" I asked, standing up. He nodded, shoveling the last bits of the bacon in his mouth and carrying it over to the sink. I dumped both in warm water, making a mental note to wash it when we get back. He was back in the living room when he saw It. If I wasn't so mortified, I might even have laughed at his expression. But since I was, laughing was the last thing on my mind.

"Bloody hell," I moaned, clutching my face. "I am _ruined_."

"Your parents are definitely feisty," he joked, but his face was rather flushed. I shuddered, laying the photo facedown and putting an old school picture in its place.

"Hey, when was this?" he asked, lifting it off and examining it. I turned to look. And moaned again.

"I was seven," I mumbled. I could tell he was grinning.

"You were cute back then," he remarked. "What happened?"

"Shut up."

"No, really. Look at the braids and that toothy little grin—I'm done now," he said meekly.

"Good. Let's go then, before I decide this is a terrible idea and club you over the head."

"Are you ever not sarcastic?" he wondered.

I thought about that. "Yes," I said. "But most times, I am."

"Ah."

We set out towards a bus station not far from my house. James was intrigued by the vehicle, and I had to tell him several times to tone it down, lest we break the International Law of Secrecy. Unabashed, he spent most of the ride with his nose shoved against the window, watching every little movement outside. Some girls our age were eying him in a way that I didn't particularly like, and it was a relief when I finally dragged him out at our stop.

"So, when's the concert?" I asked, pulling the tickets out of his pocket.

"It says it starts at one," he said, scratching his neck. "Which gives us about two hours of free time."

"Two hours of free time?" I quoted him.

"Yep," he grinned, rather nervously, I thought.

I stared at him accusingly. He looked back, face blank. I stared harder. Finally, his carefully empty face cracked into a smile.

"All right, I sort of did this on purpose," he admitted, "but I figured that you wouldn't mind…"

"Well, guess what, Potter? I sort of do mind," I stomped away from him. "I've got no plans whatsoever, no idea what we're going to do for two hours straight—"

"Must we always need a plan?" he asked, pulling me back. "Let's do it the Marauder way today—winging it."

"Unfortunately for you, I don't _wing_ things," I said coldly. "Now, let's get back before I'm arrested for murder right here on the spot." I started to walk in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, with no other intention in mind than Apparating straight home from there.

"Wait!"

"No, Potter, I will not wait. Now get a move on—"

"Lily."

I stopped. The way he said my name…it wasn't his usual arrogant, teasing voice. It was confident, but not in his cocky way, but instead...authoritative. I turned around.

"Lily," he said again. "Think about this for a moment. Please."

So I did. I thought about the possible things we could do, things that didn't require an exact plan. I thought about how happy my parents looked whenever I mentioned his name. I thought about Marlene telling me that this was a date. I made up my mind.

"Not a bloody chance!"

* * *

><p>"How did this happen?" I wondered. We were walking side by side again, even after my dramatic declarationdeparture. And I had absolutely no idea how that came to be.

"It's my natural charm," he grinned. "You just can't resist it."

"I hate you," I muttered.

He nodded sagely. "I know."

"What do we do now? Walk the entire length of London?"

"Sure, if you want."

"What time is it now?"

"Eleven ten," he said.

"Great. Let's go sit down somewhere."

"Er, all right…"

We stopped at a small teashop, away from the numerous prying eyes out on the streets—even here, in Muggle London, James Potter attracted girls like there's no tomorrow. I chewed my lower lip, thinking about what places I've been to before. James looked around with the expression he wore when he examined our toaster: pure wizard fascination.

"So how'd you come by the tickets?" I asked, startling him. "Yes, James, I'm talking to you."

"Dad's connections," he shrugged. I raised an eyebrow; "connections" simply just didn't land someone with front row tickets to one of England's most revered bands. Who just happened to be playing in London the day we agreed to meet again. I didn't voice my doubts; he could see it plainly enough on my face.

"Ministry things," he explained briefly. His eyes flitted to the shopkeeper, who was intently rubbing a china cup, the same one he's been cleaning for the past two minutes and dropped his voice. "I'll tell you later."

I nodded. "Well, we can visit the Parliament, I suppose. And the London Bridge…"

"That sounds good," he agreed, standing up. "Let's go then."

Once outside, in the bustle and hustle of the crowd, we could freely talk without worrying. "Connections," I stated. His hand flew to his hair again, before remembering what he'd done with it. He settled for scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, and it was hard too. In times like these…" he didn't have to say more. Our walk through the park the previous week hasn't left me yet.

"Why, though? If it's really that bad, then why still do it?"

"Because I wanted to," he said. "I wanted time with you in London."

"You're so spoiled," I told him. "You made your dad go through all that for a simple whim?"

"Yes," he laughed. "Besides, he was happy to do it. I reckon he loves you more than I do."

"Great."

"So, the Parliament? Is it like the Muggle version of the Ministry?" he asked.

"You didn't really think we were going there, did you?" I said, incredulous. "I said it to get us out of here. Government is the last thing I want to teach you about."

"Good. Government is the last thing I want to learn about too."

"Really?" I cocked my head. "I would've thought you were somewhat interested in it."

He wrinkled his nose. "Oh, hell no. You have to wear _suits_!"

"At least we agree on some things, then. What time is it now?"

He looked at his watch. "Almost eleven forty-five."

I noticed it too. "Swanky watch you've got there."

"Thanks. I got it for my seventeenth birthday," he said. "It belonged to one of my uncles on my mum's side."

"The Black family," I guessed.

"Yep." His fist tightened for a moment. "What now?"

"I don't know. This is normally where plans come in, but since we don't have one…!"

"We wing it," he finished for me. It wasn't necessarily the answer I wanted, but it's something.

"Let's go, then," I sighed. "Merlin, is this a bad idea."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hate myself for not having the stamina to write longer chapters. I don't want this story to be too long, but I just can't seem to sit still. So, yeah. I'm stopping here, and hopefully the next update will arrive sooner.<strong>

**~Gella**


	9. The Lily Fell In Love With the Turtle?

"So," I said, licking my ice cream cone, "here I am, wandering around Muggle London with James Potter, acting like a standard tourist, and eating ice cream. That's not weird at all."

"No," he agreed. "Your ice cream's dripping."

I caught it with my finger and licked it clean. "I have to admit, this thing is good. Ben and Jerry are my new best friends."

"And James too," he added. I rolled my eyes, scanning the map we bought.

"I should've brought my camera," I said thoughtfully. "Give the tourist charade a whole 'nother level."

"Lots of historical sights here," he commented. "Please don't make me go."

"But we have to at least a little," I told him.

"How much, then?"

"A little. Trust me, I'm no fan of history. By the way, what's the time?"

"We've an hour until the concert. What do you want to do?"

"Let's just walk around and pretend we're having the time of our lives here."

"Great! Corn dog, Lily?"

I looked up. "What?"

"Would you like a corn dog?" he repeated, gesturing at a small stand.

"Er…sure?" I made for my wallet, but James handed a crisp pound to the man, receiving two corn dogs in return. I looked questioningly at him.

"Dad exchanged some for me," he said cheerfully, biting into his corn dog. "This is good."

"Yeah, it is…" I took a bite as well, and licked my ice cream cone. "Okay. I'm going to start the lesson now. Starting with dressing etiquette."

"It's 'cause wizards dress so strangely in Muggle clothing, isn't it?" I nodded. "Well, we just like to have fun, you know, it's a nice change from robes and cloaks."

"Speaking of that, your parents weren't wearing anything weird last time," I said, remembering the perfect combination of Muggle clothing they had donned.

"Mum works with Muggles," he explained. "She's learned quite a bit over the years."

"Oh, I see. Well, I'm going to teach you anyway.

"You see that window over there? Yeah, that one, Rose Boutique? See how the mannequins—"

"They haven't got faces," he said, staring.

"Yes, because they're mannequins. Anyway, in the display window you see how those trousers are paired with that shirt and not the other one?"

His eyebrows scrunched. "Why not? I think they'd look lovely together."

"That'll the wizard in you," I told him wisely. "They aren't paired together because orange and yellow just don't go together. But on the other hand, the orange shirt looks all right with the white shorts."

"And that other one—blue jeans and a white shirt," he smiled. "Like you."

"Yes," I agreed. "So basically, stick with elemental colors and you'll be fine."

"That's the Lily in you," he said. "I've noticed that some other people are wearing some not-so-elemental colors today."

My eyes followed his gaze to a curvy Muggle girl in a bright pink and orange sundress.

"Yes," I said again, more sullenly than before, "and _that's_ because she hasn't got the color of my hair."

"Good point. You'd look like a radish more than ever in that."

"Anyways," I continued loudly, "a dark bottom and a colorful top, or a light bottom and a color top, but never colorful in both."

"Okay. Can we try on some?"

"Depends on how much time we have."

"Fifty minutes."

"Fine," I ceded. "But please, please don't be a wizard in there."

"I won't."

* * *

><p>Well, the outfits he put together were…interesting, to say the least. I was all right when he came out of the dressing room with a colorful stripped shirt and flared jeans, and I was only a little concerned when a satin green dress went missing and later turned up on him, and I even held back my scream of horror when he appeared in women's bell bottoms, mules, and a skin-tight leotard. But the last straw was when he decided to wear the infamous one-piece swimsuit. What happened wasn't pleasant.<p>

"James Potter, get back in there now," I hissed.

"Why? I like this though," he whined.

"No. Just no. No. Get back inside, and change. Right now."

He ducked past me to examine his reflection in the floor-length mirror. I averted my eyes as he turned his way and that, posing in various saucy positions.

"James, I'm begging you," I whispered hoarsely. "Please change."

"I'd really like to see you wearing this," he said, but not budging.

"Spare me the horror and just—"

"But don't you think this really is my thing?"

"Don't make me hex you."

"You wouldn't, there's too many Muggles here."

An idea hit me. "Yeah, you're right, there really _are_ too many Muggles here."

Leaving him to his modeling, I headed for the cashier desk. "Excuse me," I said in a low voice, "that bloke over there needs some help…"

The poor salesgirl looked at where I was pointing and clapped her hand to her mouth. "Yeah, I know," I sympathized. "But will you please help me?"

She nodded, maybe because one of her precious swimsuits was at stake here more than anything, but my deed was done. I watched in silent amusement as the salesgirl and an older manager managed to wrestle the thing off of him and locking him in his dressing room.

"Thanks," I told them, handing them a five pound bill apiece. I figured they deserved that, after the task I've put them through. The two snatched up the money and ran away, presumably to the loo. I don't blame them.

I knocked on James' door, calling, "Once you're dressed and ready, meet me outside. And don't even think about doing anything!"

Thankfully, he heard the warning in my voice and meekly slipped out a few minutes later. I didn't look at him; I didn't think I could ever look at him the same way again.

"Let's get out of here," I said shortly.

It an awkward three minutes before I got over it—somewhat—and decided to start acting like a tourist again (don't get me wrong, I still haven't ruled out my other options—physical harm, or a potentially deadly hex, et cetera—if he chooses to scare the living hell out of me like that again). "Hey, look, there's a spa place. Didn't you want a massage earlier?" I pointed at the posh sign.

"Good idea," he said, heading in. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that today, I was going to have fun, and that today, I will not murder him—yet—and that today, I was going to be as nice as I can. With all that in mind, I followed him into the brightly-lit spa. We headed to the receptionist table. I looked around just as much as James did; this was all a very much foreign environment for me.

"Hello," the blonde—Tara, her name tag said—beamed at us, but mostly James. "How may I help you today?"

"We, uh," he glanced at me, "we'd like a—er—"

"A massage for him and whatever that's available for me," I said.

"Great! What will it be, then? We have more than twenty-five services today, please pick one that you desire." She pushed a clipboard in front of me and engaged James in small talk. I read over the checkboxes, wondering what on earth seaweed was used for in a spa.

"'Many a Mani'," I read.

"That's our custom manicure," she told me. I glanced at my nails. They were plain and looked rather scruffy. Marlene would die of shock and excitement if I actually got them done.

"All right then," I said.

"Marcia here will lead you both to Room 7. Enjoy!"

* * *

><p>"We're in the same room?" I asked.<p>

Marcia bustled around a white chair, placing all the brushes in their proper order. "Yes, but you will be separated by a screen. Now then, miss, please sit down here…"

I saw James being led to the other side of the room by another attendant in white, and a third pulled open a filmy screen and brought a dish of hot towels by my easy-back chair.

"I'll start by removing all the dirt from underneath your fingernails, then I'll apply a thin, clear layer to your nails, and then the color of your choice. And a final layer will be applied, to prevent chipping. Would you like to soak your feet in hot water in the meanwhile?" my manicurist said all that without a pause.

"Sure."

Marcia snapped her fingers, and a moment later, a steaming tub was placed by my feet. Gingerly at first, I dipped half a toe in, then relaxed, rather enjoying the feel.

"Is it just me," James called, "or is this place pretty awesome?"

"Yeah…awesome." Marcia was soaking my hands as well, and using a brush with tiny bristles to gently clean under my nails. I could hear the noises James was making as his masseuse worked her way down his back, and believe me, those noises will haunt me for the rest of my life. I was almost glad when Marcia asked me what color I would like.

"Oh…er…"

"Green would go well with your eyes," she suggested. Of course.

"Pink," I said. Her eyes widened, but other than that, she hid her shock well.

"Would that be Flamingo, Shrimpy Dimpy, Salmon, or simply Pink?"

"Pink is pink," I said, making her laugh. _She isn't too bad for someone who paints nails for a living,_ I thought. The swipes of the brush were rather ticklish, and I had to fight down the urge—several times, actually—to snatch my hand back. Instead, I clenched my other hand and cursed James into the very depths of hell for dragging me in here.

James himself was evidently thoroughly enjoying his massage. I wondered if the masseuse was frightened by those positively guttural sounds coming from her client.

"There. You're all set! We'll have to keep you here for five more minutes though, as for it to dry completely. You can either request another service or just sit tight."

"I'm good. Thanks," I smiled at her, admiring my newly-made nails. For a heart-stopping moment, I almost thought that the pink looked pretty good. Then that moment passed and I went back to hating the color. Notice I said the color; not my nails. They did look good, all smooth and shiny and pink…

_Snap out of it,_ a stern voice said in my head.

"But what's so bad about it?" I murmured out loud. "It's pretty…"

And I realized what I just said.

"Bloody hell. Something happened to me."

"What was that, Lily?" James said. They had taken down the screen and I could see him, facedown on a soft-looking cot, with a young woman kneading his shoulder blades.

"Nothing," I replied. "You done yet?"

"Yeah," he yawned, "but I requested another short one so…"

"What time is it? We're going to be late for the concert."

"Oh. Right! Soph, pass me my watch, would you?"

'Soph' giggled and obliged, her hand lingering in his a bit longer than deemed appropriate. I watched his eyes snap open as he took in the position of the watch hands.

"We've got six minutes," he told me.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

Heedless of whether my nails had dried or not, I stood up, almost tipping over the tub in my haste. I saw James jump up too, one hand reaching into his shorts pocket for money, one hand reaching for his shirt.

"Here, Sophie. This is you and Marcia's tip—" he shoved two ten pound bills into her hands. "And here's our payment. Thank you so much and it was lovely to meet you!"

And we were out, leaving Sophie to gape, confused, at the door.

* * *

><p>"You're quite the generous tipper," I panted as we raced down the street, trying to avoid the pedestrians. This was an easy thing to do, because everyone was headed in the same direction—to the concert. He shrugged, shoulders bouncing wildly as he ran.<p>

"I thought it'd be the right thing to do," he said. "Now come on! A minute to go and we don't want to be the last ones!"

"We should Apparate," I said, clutching a stitch in my side. "I'm not all that athletic."

"What about the Muggles?"

"Oh come here." I dragged him out of the flow of people into a narrow alley. "Hold my hand—one, two, THREE!"

We turned simultaneously, and landed a second later landed in an identical alley. Only now, we could hear all the sounds of a concert—the guitars and drums warming up, screechy feedback from the microphone, hundreds of excited fans jumping up and down. We stepped back into the crowd and shoved our way to the front. And not feeling one bit sorry for it, because when we finally got to where we could properly see, I've had my share of elbows jabbed in my ear and feet trodden on my toes.

"Is this what a normal Muggle concert is?" he whispered to me.

"No clue," I whispered back. "Never been to one before."

"Oh."

Just then, someone stepped out onto the raised stage.

"How's everyone doing today?" he asked. General screaming was the response. I winced, covering my head as the people around me jostled and churned. James, however, was caught up in the moment. I couldn't help but notice that he was practically the only male fan here; all the rest was a sea of long female manes. I realized why that was when the band started their first song.

I realized why that was when I fell in love with the lead singer of Thirty Tears.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, I was going to make a spinoff of Linkin Park, then I realized Hickey Park wasn't exactly the best of names so…..yeah, maybe another chapter on London, I'm really milking this :P <strong>

**~Gella**


	10. D is for Disaster

Concert over. Band has left. Get over it, Lily.

I didn't get over it.

"Did you see the way he tousled his hair?" I asked dreamily. "Or those adorable dimples?"

No response from James. I went on.

"Merlin, he's cute. And that voice! He's such a good singer!"

Absolute silence.

"His eyes too! I've never seen a clearer shade of brown in my life—!"

"How can brown eyes be clear?" James snorted, kicking an innocent pebble out of his way.

I ignored him. "He's, like, perfection itself. No wonder there were so many other girls there. Even the great and mighty James Potter can't attract that many ladies."

"You're just wonderful, Lily. I feel so special."

"His stage name is the best too, I'm not joking. Wes Turtle. Cutest name _ever_."

"That's his stage name? It sounded awfully like his real name to me."

The snarky remark slid right off me. "I wonder where he lives…"

James stared at me. I stared back, realizing what I'd said. Hastily, I cleared my throat. "So, er, what should we do now?"

"Remembered me, have you?" he asked sourly, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Well, go on! I won't interrupt your sermon on how great that son of a—"

"Y'aww, is ickle Jamsie jealous?" I prodded his shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll find someone someday. Maybe."

He glared at me. Humph. Guess my words of wisdom aren't helping any.

"So. What do we do now?"

"What else? Go home, obviously. Unless you want to try and chase after that band?"

"Where did your good cheer go?"

"It decided to take a vacation from your grumpiness."

"Excuse me!" I cried. "I am most certainly not grumpy."

"'Let's go then, before I decide this is a terrible idea and clout you over the head.'" He quoted.

"Actually, I said club, but close enough."

He reached up to run his hands through his hair and succeeded in flattening the majority of his spikes. After that, he settled for a world-weary sigh instead.

"Good choice," I said to his exhalation. "Those spikes looked sharp."

"How do your family put up with you?" he asked. "I'd go crazy after half a day of this."

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"No. Let's just go."

I grabbed his arm. "Hey. Look at me. I didn't come all this way out here just to get a manicure, have a mini-fiasco in a clothing store, eat ice cream, then attend a concert."

"Sounds like a lot to me," he muttered.

"Don't you want to see more of Muggle London?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"No. We're not going home. Not just yet."

"Oh goodie."

I frowned at him. "I don't understand you, James. You wanted to learn about Muggles. You dragged me into this thing. And now you're telling me that you wanted to forget it all and go?"

He looked around us. "We can argue later. We're attracting attention."

We were getting a lot of curious looks, being the only stationary people on the street. I nodded, and we started walking again in no apparent direction, trying to make our row look like a normal conversation between a pair of tourists.

"Fine," he said. "Fine. Let's make a deal. If I'm going to be a good sport and restore my good cheer, then you'd better not say another word about that singer."

"So you are jealous," I concluded. "All right, deal."

He looked a bit happier. "What do we do now?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Shall we get something to eat?"

"Okay," he agreed. We wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes before settling down on an ice cream place—again. This time, I ordered a conservative sundae with one scoop and James got triple scoops. I rolled my eyes as he shoved practically the entire thing in his mouth.

"You know," I told him, "one day you're going to choke on all that ice cream. And the Healers won't be able to get it out of your esophagus, and then you'll die."

"Thanks." He set down his spoon, having finished his sundae in literally two bites. "You've got such a knack for making me feel safe."

"It's your own fault for being such a boy," I sniffed.

"Well-spotted," he said dryly. I lobbed a spoonful of vanilla at him.

"I'd retaliate," he said, clambering back into his seat, "but since I've got nothing left…"

I responded by shoving the rest of my sundae in his face.

"Thanks," he said again.

"Oh, believe me, the pleasure is mine."

"We should head back. We've done everything anyway," he said.

"What? I haven't said one thing about that gorgeous bloke, and here you are, sprouting your pessimism again."

"But it's true; there _is_ nothing more to do."

"What you need to realize, James," I said, "is that there is way more to Muggle London. I'm sure there are more things to do, if you go all the way."

"So you're saying you want to 'go all the way?'" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Your mind is dirtier than the bottom of my shoes, and those shoes have walked on some filthy stuff. But yes. Let's go all the way today, shall we?"

And by Merlin's beard, we did. Every outrageous, impossible thing we did. Every disgusting, gross thing we did. Double-decker bus rides, hide-and-seek right in the middle of the boulevard, throwing apples to each other from across the Thames, and so much more. We chased passing cyclists, we paused to sample every type of food there is in the city, we loaded our pockets with souvenirs, and considerably emptied out our wallets. We even bought a Muggle camera! Nearly all the film was used up by the time we decided to stop. We did, long story short, _everything_.

At around three-thirty, we ended back in the same ice cream shop, each licking a double-scoop triple-chocolate cone, topped with chopped pecans and cranberry—yes, even me! I was too worn out to care about being ladylike.

"That was fun," James said finally. "What're you smiling about?"

I didn't stop beaming. "That _was_ fun," I agreed. "Well, I suppose we can go now."

"And Normal Lily returns," he said. "Honestly, I have no clue what came over you today."

"Neither do I," I said thoughtfully. "Let's go."

We took a bus home, relatively quieter than we were on the way here. It dropped us off at a different stop this time, and it was a while before we finally arrived on my doorstep.

"Come inside?" I offered, out of politeness than anything. I knew he would say yes, but I was just tired, really tired. Tired enough to not care anymore. That's what I thought, anyway. The sight of the picture was enough to jolt up any last amounts of fire in me.

"They really did frame it and hang it up on the wall, huh," I muttered as he straightened up the Thing on the mantle. "They are _so_ in for it when they get back."

"I think we look rather nice," he said. "Shame it isn't a wizard photo."

"The picture me would probably murder the picture you," I said. "Now, that's a nice though. A great one, actually."

"Can I keep this?" he asked, startling me.

I looked at him suspiciously. "You're not going to blow it up to poster size and hang it over Hogwarts when we get back to school, are you?"

"No, no, of course not. Great idea," he added, "but no. I'm just going to blow it up to poster size and hang it over the Gryffindor common room—"

"You would not dare" I growled.

He smirked, obviously not aware of the danger he's in. "That got you worked up. So, what color should I make it? Red and gold, maybe? Or green and hazel?"

"If you do, I'll kill you," I warned. "No, really, I will."

"It's just a kiss! On the cheek! And your hair actually looks halfway presentable!"

"It's _you_ kissing _me_."

"Exactly."

"Just be quiet, James," I said tiredly. "And you're absolutely not hanging that anywhere."

"Can I hang it on my wall, then?" he asked. "I won't let Sirius or Marlene see it."

"Shove it in the back of your closet," I yawned. "Anywhere but where people can see it."

"That'll be my front door then," he said. I aimed a kick at him. My shoe fell off and smacked him right on the nose. "Whoops."

"What do you want to do now?" I asked without opening my eyes. "Do you want to…sing, dance, act, or what?"

I didn't have to see his face to know he was staring. "You didn't catch a cold out there, did you?"

"Come to think of it," I said, "I might have. It was probably when you pushed me into that fountain."

"Oh. I probably should go now then."

With Herculean effort, I managed to get off the couch. "No, I'm fine. Stay. Let's do another lesson for today. Did you learn anything about Muggle London?"

"That the ice cream there is good," he answered happily.

"Anything that could ever be even remotely useful?"

He seemed to think this over. "No, I don't think so," he said.

"Do you know anything much about…cooking?"

"I made a sandwich once," he said, quite proudly, "all by myself!"

"Oh, brilliant. You're on your way to becoming Britain's next top chef," I said. "But before your rise to the top, let's do some fundamental things in the kitchen. Then you can tell everyone about the amazing Lily Evans who trained you to become the cooking star you will be one day."

"Leave it to you to twist even that into something completely different," he sighed.

"Oh, yes. Leave it all to me."

We spent the next hour and a half in the kitchen. To my immense surprise, he was actually rather handy with a spatula, but not so much with raw materials. His first attempt at making pancakes was extremely messy, and not at all edible.

"How much should I take out again?" he asked, up to his elbows in the flour sack.

"About two cups. Wait, what are you doing!"

He froze, white-caked fingers wrapped around a plastic drinking glass on the counter.

I wrestled it out of his grip. "Two cups, James, as in the cup that's in the bag!"

"Oh. Okay."

His following actions were even less encouraging. He couldn't tell the difference between a tablespoon and a teaspoon, and as a result, half a tablespoon of salt and not nearly enough butter made it into the mix.

"I grew up in an environment where the correct amounts are conjured with a swish of a wand, Lily," he said when I tried to tell him that his cooking skills were terribly limited. "Muggles just have to do everything the hard way, don't they?"

"And wizards are reduced to the point that they couldn't even read the small print on the back of the spoon, are they?" I retorted, waving the utensils under his nose, making sure he saw the 'tbsp' and the 'tsp'. An unimpressed snort was my response.

Thankfully, he didn't argue when I took over with the mixing and the stirring. I let him have his fun with pouring the batter into all kinds of shapes, then cooking it. When we were finished, our finished product was a tall stack of irregularly shaped blueberry pancakes stacked haphazardly, wobbling in a slightly worrying way. Since there was no way the two of us could eat that much, I put a Heat-Retaining Charm over it, to save them for later.

After discovering a box of dried pasta in the very back of the pantry, he decided to try his luck at Italian. It wasn't that bad, actually. In fact, it might've even been consumable if you don't count the masses of tomato sauce and Parmesan he piled on the watery noodles. All that was solved with a simple charm. Or, rather, it was supposed to. What we ended up with was a bit too dry for anyone's taste. We stood over the bowl, brows furrowed, contemplating it.

"We should get rid of this," I decided finally.

"We should," he agreed.

Quietly, we sneaked out the back door, him heaving the bowl, me keeping watch for any overly-curious neighbors. With enough stealth and craftiness to break into Westminster Abbey, we managed to gouge out the clumps with a blunt knife, dumping it into some unfortunate raccoon's nest. Then we tiptoed back in, trying to look natural while hefting an empty mixing bowl and a meat cleaver, both suspiciously stained with red.

"We didn't have to do all that, right?" I mused. "It was almost as if we murdered someone."

"Yeah, the raccoon," he said. I laughed, cleaning off the cleaver and the bowl, and put the pasta fiasco behind us. Then we moved on to something more complex. Steak, to be exact. And it put the D in not 'delicious', no, but '_disaster'_.

It was fine while we were preparing it. Conveniently enough, there was a chunk of beef of the perfect size sitting in the freezer. After letting it thaw down to room temperature, we gathered all our artillery, ammunition, and armor, and set to cooking it. He let me do my thing with the salt and the pepper and the herbs, I let him use my favorite brush to coat canola over, under, and around it. All that was fine. Even using the skillet was fine—sort of. Just remind me to buy thicker mittens next time. But still, that was fine. Then, it was time to use the oven.

"Let me do this, Lily," he said, refusing to budge from his stubborn stance in front of it. "I'm the one learning about Muggles, right? So let me do this."

"James, you don't know _how_ to do it!"

"It's easy. You just turn those knobs, right?"

"James, don't be stupid. Steaks are expensive these days."

"I won't mess up," he insisted. "Give me a bloody chance, Lily."

I sighed, dragging my hand across my eyes before remember they were still coated with a fresh layer of herbs and black ground peppers. I hissed, instinctively groping for my wand. It wasn't there. "I've given you lots of chances. I've been giving you chances since year one. And look where all of those chances ended up. Now get me a towel."

Instead of relieving me of my pain, he took this chance to 'turn the knobs'.

"There," he said, handing me a towel—a dry one, might I add. "Just watch when it comes out all juicy and amazing and stuff. I'll make sure to get a picture of your face then."

"Or when it comes out dried-up and disgusting," I grouched, flicking tap water at him. "Well, there's nothing more we can do now. I'm going to find a safe spot to hide in until that steak is done cooking."

"Let's go outside," he suggested.

"Good idea," I said. "So when the oven erupts, we'll be out of the immediate danger."

"Everyone loves a sarcastic redhead, Lily."

"I know," I beamed. "Everybody loves me."

"No one loves a sarcastic Potter?" he asked, the corners of his mouth pulling down.

"No one," I confirmed.

"You're wonderful," he muttered for the second time that day.

"I'm going to bring a book to read," I told him. "Reading always takes my mind off of bad things."

He put on a long-suffering face. "Don't you want to talk to me?"

"Not really," I said with complete honesty.

"Why do I even try," I heard him sigh. With another yawn, I slid down onto a comfortable patch of grass and opened my book. James slumped against the brick wall next to me. I gave him half a glance and decided that he'd be happy enough with the ants and bugs in the dirt for company. I had a nice five minutes absorbed in my book before something distracted me. I stopped and held my breath, looking at the ground, where faint tremors were passing through. I waited. A few moments later, not only did it not stop, like I'd hoped, the vibrations actually got stronger.

"James?" I asked hesitantly. "Do you feel that?"

"Uhnnn" came his muffled reply.

"James," I said again. "Wake up. The ground's shaking."

He jerked upright. "What?"

"The ground is _shaking_," I snapped, heaving him up.

He looked uncomprehendingly at me. I growled and dragged him indoors, straight to the kitchen.

"_What_," I snarled, yanking open the over door, heedless of safety issues, "did I effing tell you?"

A thick cloud of smoke blasted from the steaming box; fiery sparks ran along the inner wires. An earsplitting _BOOM!_ followed. When I dared looked up again, the oven had exploded, taking a rather large chunk of the wall with it. Through the empty gap, I saw my parents rush out from their car, their shock evident even at a distance.

"Lily!" Mum cried, her purse discarded at the edge of the lawn.

"Oh _no_."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello! Missed me? I'm so sorry for the long delay; I wrote a lot of drabbles though, with the time that I was supposed to use to write this, if that's of any comfort to you. I won't take this long to update again, siriusly. Unless another drabble-writing frenzy hits me. Oh, and hooray for the unintended but awesome innuendos ;)<strong>

**~Gella**


	11. Real, Legit Muggle Work

"What happened?" Mum called in a panicky tone. "Are you both all right?"

We were fine, if a little shaken. The wall? Not so much. The oven, with a piece of plaster attached to the back, lay haphazardly on the ground with some leftover sparks fizzling about. Neighboring chunks were starting to loosen as well, and the rubble pile was rather sizeable.

Dad was here too, hair disheveled and briefcase abandoned. Both he and Mum were a calmer now that they know we weren't hurt, but I could tell we weren't going to get off the hook too easily. I saw my dad give James the infamous father look, as if this whole thing was somehow his fault. I winced. This wasn't looking good.

"How are we going to fix this?" Mum was fretting. "Should we call a repair shop?"

"Lily and I can do this," James said. "I just need my wand—"

"Which is back at your house," I reminded him. "And we haven't got time for you go back and get it." Right on cue, another section gave out, and a cloud of dust surrounded our small group. "Besides, we can't do magic right here, in full view of everybody."

"Oh yeah…"

A gruff cough from my father interrupted us. "Well?" he gestured to the hole. "The insurance doesn't cover wall repairs caused by exploding ovens, you know."

I eyed it. The widening process had mostly stopped now, but every now and then some stray bits fell, little by little opening up my home for the world to see.

"Let's call the insurance, honey," Dad said to Mum. "I mean, the damage is rather big…"

"I still don't get why we can't just use magic to close it up," James muttered.

"Oh, go on then. Go on, use magic! And get expelled for all I care," I snapped.

He looked hurt at my outburst. My mother noticed. "Lily, please be nice. We mustn't fight amongst ourselves at a time of crisis like this." James stuck out his tongue at me behind Mum's back.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I'm just not used to not being able to use magic."

"And I'm the pureblood child," James said in an undertone. I kicked him. While he thrashed about on the grass, I turned back to my parents.

"Shouldn't we be calling the insurance company right now?" I asked. "Sooner the better, right?"

They looked at each other. I vaguely remembered that Dad called our insurance people the worst of the worst, the nastiest of the nasty. Actually, his exact words were something much, much more straightforward. Mum made him wash his mouth with dish detergent afterwards.

"All right," Dad said. He headed inside to the living room, and after exchanging a few words on the phone, he came back out again, looking resigned. I found out why after the longest hour of my life.

Long story short: they can't (or won't, one or the other) do it. It's because of the area of the damage wasn't big enough, or because the rest of the kitchen walls were still intact, or something. I lost track a few minutes after they got the papers out. Basically, they were going to leave us with a hole in our wall. Only now do I understand my father's words.

"Great," I growled. "Now what do we do?"

James looked up. "It's obvious, isn't it? We fix it ourselves."

"Have you forgotten what I said about not using—?"

"Magic?" he finished. "So we don't use magic. We do it the Muggle way. Can it count as extra credit?" he asked.

I snorted. "Get real, Potter. Should we cover it with a sheet or something then?" I directed that at my dad. He was looking at James with something akin to wonder and amusement combined. I knew that look. My future suddenly looked very, very dark.

"You know, that's actually a pretty good idea," he remarked to James. "We can make it work."

James grinned at him. "Thanks, Mr. Evans."

"You remind me quite a bit of myself," Dad said amiably. "The same hardworking spirit, the same dashing looks…"

_Merlin save me,_ I realized in horror, _they're…they're _bonding_! _

"…just don't blow up the house," Dad was saying. "I'll forgive you for a wall, but not a house, yes?"

"Yes," James agreed humbly. "I won't blow up a house, don't you worry, Mr. Evans."

Dad now turned to me. "Lily! Is this kid your boyfriend yet?"

I looked at Mum, beseeching her to help. She chuckled and pinched James' cheeks and told him what a handsome boy he was and what a perfect husband he'd make. I willed myself to drop into a deep, bottomless pit. James endured my parents' praise with good-natured humility.

I cleared my throat loudly, interrupting their doting. "If we're going to do this, we should get started now, right?"

"Right you are, Lily dear," Dad said brightly. Then, in a lower voice, "Does Potter have a girl?"

"Yeah," I retorted. "Big, curvy type. Jealous gal. Wouldn't want to cross her."

He looked at me for a moment. I nodded back. He sighed and went in the garage for tools. Mum was going inside to change into something more suitable for what we were about to do, and I prayed she wouldn't get too carried away with her vast selection of baggy pants and jackets resembling rat skin. I was going in as well to get my wand, in case there was something I could do with it, but not before I had a word with James.

"You're mental," I told him shortly.

"I know," he said.

Dad came out, hefting what looked like the entire section of hardware tools in the local home improvement store. I didn't even know we owned that many hammers. Speaking of which…

"Dad, we're not going to rebuild the wall using a wrench and screwdrivers, are we?" I asked.

He looked sheepish. "Oh. Right. I forgot."

"We'll need some bricks and mortar too," I said. "Right. I'm going to go mass produce some of our raw materials. Don't do anything while I'm gone, James," I warned.

"I won't. I'm coming with you."

"Ever worse."

He ignored me, whistling a little tune. I looked suspiciously at him; he saw it.

"What?" he asked anxiously. "You're not going to kill me now, where no one's watching, are you?"

"Relax. I can't kill you anymore, besides. My parents would notice," I scowled. "Why're you so happy anyway?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Well…it's sort of because your parents like me so much."

I suppressed a groan. "Wonderful."

"I was expecting a beating after blowing out a portion of your house," he admitted. "But they seem…less angry than I thought."

"A beating?" I snorted. "Who do you think we are, Sirius' family?"

"You're not, right?" he asked. "I'd be a little nervous to have in-laws like that."

"Watch what you're saying, won't you?" I hissed. "Don't go around yelling things like that! They might get ideas!"

James regarded me with amusement. Probably not too scared now that my parents were on his side. I stomped away from him, muttering things that generally shouldn't be uttered aloud. Only once inside my room did I realize that he had followed me.

"Hey look," he said before I could kick him out. "That's picture of lilies I drew you in second year!"

I glanced at it. "Oh, er…I was just showing that to Tuney the other day for her art courses. An outstanding example for what not to do when sketching stills, you know."

"Why have you got it propped up on your dresser then?"

I snapped. "Out! I'm changing. Get out."

"All right, all right, I'm out."

I shoved him into the hall and slammed my door, locking it for good measure. Then I ducked into my closet, lest he peeked through the cracks or something. I am _not_ taking any chances.

I paid dearly with comfort for my cautiousness. After accidentally elbowing several boxes off their base and stubbing my toe several times on a cursed corner of something, I decided to trust James to be the good person that he is not. If he dared look…well, he won't have anything to look with after I'm through with him.

"You can come back in now," I called when I was done. "Or, don't come back in—"

The door opened. "You look…different."

I did look different. I had shed the skin-tight jeans Marlene condemned me to wear, and the shoes too. My chaffed feet were encased safely in cotton socks and I vowed to never touch another pair of flats in my life ever again. My hair had returned to its natural frizz; the half-bottle of Sleekeazy had worn off, finally. I wrestled it into a ponytail. Then I noticed my hands.

"This'll have to go," I decided, grabbing my wand. I cursed Marcia for being so meticulously, because it resulted in ten minutes of painstaking wandwork on my part to siphon the pink off. James watched from afar, trying to contain his laughter. It came off, eventually, but several items in my room suffered my abuse, as had my big toe. I knew kicking the dresser leg wasn't a good idea.

"Well," I said as brightly as I could, "let's go make some bricks!"

"Are we going to Transfigure it?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure. What should we use?"

He considered this. "We can probably multiply it, if you have some bricks already."

"I'm sure we do."

We did. They were mismatched and none of them were the same, but it would have to do. I left the Transfiguring part for James to do, then I Charmed them into many, many more. We were almost drowning in a sea of red when we were done.

"Now, the mortar," I said. "What should we use—?"

"Cement," he said. "Have you got cement?"

"Oh, most certainly we do. Aren't we lucky to have such a large supply of cement just sitting there, gathering dust?"

"Really, Lily. Do you?"

"We do."

Two vats of mortar were thus produced, again by Transfiguration on his part, and Charming on mine.

"McGonagall would definitely give you extra credit for this," I said as we lugged them outside. "More than what I'd give you, anyway."

"How much are you going to give me?"

"I'll give you three guesses. Begins with a 'z'."

"Ah."

"Lily!" Dad and Mum were both outside, waiting. "Oh, brilliant, you've got the bricks."

"They might not be strong enough," I warned Dad. "So don't be surprised if this section gives out during the winter or something."

"That's a long time away," he said happily. "Oh, I love magic!"

"That's his other side. The side that's still a big fluffy bunny." I said to James. "Well, let's get on with it then."

I spread the mortar, while James carefully eased the brick into position. It was slow work, made worse by the summer sun beating down on us and the fact that there was no way to speed it up. My parents, bless their souls, stood by and watched us slave over the wall, while making impossible-to-ignore remarks about the two of us.

"Very reliable," Dad noted in a loud undertone. "Strong, too."

"You're lifting _bricks_," I muttered to James, who didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Not many boys these days are as good as him, you know," Mum remarked to Dad. "Excluding you, of course, dear…"

"You lot might as well as go inside," I sighed. "We can do it on our own."

Dad sheepishly set down the lone brick he was holding as a prop. "Well, if you're sure…"

"Oh, believe me, I'm as sure as I'll ever be." I ushered them in eagerly. "Ahh, they're gone at last."

"I like your parents," he grinned. "We'll get along perfectly."

"Shut up and work. People are staring."

"So? I never knew Lily Evans was scared of being different."

Something inside me stirred at his words. "Yeah," I said, inspiration dawning. "Yeah, I'm not."

"Well, then—"

"C'mere!" I grabbed his arm and tugged him back into the garage. "I have an idea."

"What brought on this sudden change?"

"D'you think green would go well with my house?"

"Er…"

"No, it won't. Besides, it's a Slytherin color. Hmm…gold, maybe…"

James looked at me warily. "What now?"

I glanced up, smiling widely. "Now is the beginning of something that will blow your mind. Quick, what are your favorite colors?"

"The color of your eyes," he answered promptly.

Said eyes rolled. "Any others?"

"Red, and blue, and…"

"Brilliant. Now, do you think you can Transfigure plywood into paint?"

"'Course I can," he bragged. "I'm James Potter—"

I lugged out two thick boards and handed him my wand. "Get busy."

Meanwhile, I ran into the house and grabbed Petunia's painting set, selecting the coarsest brushes. After a moment's hesitation, I nicked her paint palette as well. She wouldn't get mad at me, after she sees the masterpiece we were about to create, right? Right.

Brushes and oil and watercolors got dumped unceremoniously into a large pillowcase. I scoured my room and the cellar for more. Unfortunately, our family wasn't big on creative art. But it was all right though, because we had all that we needed. I zipped back into the garage, waving gaily to my parents on the way. James was kneeling by several buckets of paint, one orange and one resembling the hue of a rotten banana. My vast vocabulary failed me on to describe the other two.

"I tried to add some color to them," he explained, "but I guess I should leave the Charmwork to you."

"It's all right," I said, waving my wand. "See? 'The Color of My Eyes', 'Red', and 'Blue'. Now we need one more. How about purple? My mother loves purple. So does my sister," I added.

"Purple, then."

Ten minutes later, we were ready. First, we finished rebuilding the hole, our hands nimbler and arms more energetic now that we had something to look forward to. Then, the fun began.

Brush hairs dipped into the paint again and again. Slathered onto the bricks, dripping bright colors on the grass. Colors met; patterns matched. Work and silliness merged into one. The sun traveled farther and farther westwards in the pink sky, and sank into the horizon. It was amidst those fiery golden rays that we stepped back to admire our stunning success.

"This is beautiful," I said softly.

"It really is," he agreed, smiling. "You are too."

I looked at him, in his paint-splattered shirt and smudged shorts. His hair, like mine, had escaped its restrictor, the gel, completely. It was a rather nice image, with the splendid backdrop behind him, paintbrush hanging loosely in hand. Yes, it was a picture-worthy moment, ruined by the shrill scream of the one and only Petunia Evans.

"_WHAT_ HAVE YOU DONE TO MY HOUSE?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I had a weird flash of Lily and James bursting into song and dance and working on the house while they're at it. Meh, must've watched too many Disney movies lately. Anyways, sorry for the long delay—again. I want to wrap up this story along with my Marauder phase and get on to Next Gen, since I need to write something for someone. If there're no more things you want Lily and James to try, this fic would probably end in in about five chapters or so. I still don't know how their relationship will be at the end, it's up to you guys. <strong>

**~Gella**


	12. Slumber Party

I whirled around. Tuney had slammed the car door and was storming towards us. Her beefy boyfriend, Vermin—I mean, _Vernon_, glared at me and James from a distance. We locked eyes. He immediately jumped back into his car and drove away. My lip curled.

"Hey sis," I called with a lighthearted wave. "How you doing?"

She ignored me, bony hands clenched into fists. "Why did you do this, Lily?" she shrieked.

"What is it _this_ time," I sighed, as if the answer was right there in front of me. "Oh, you mean the wall? And the paint we put over it? Well, somebody had to be the cool one in this family. I'm not sorry it's not you." James stifled a laugh, fruitlessly turning it into a cough at the last minute. My darling sister turned on him, her pale face flushed.

"And you." Petunia's voice was dripping with disgust—her previous infatuation with him had all but evaporated into the arid, summer heat. "Are you her crazy, crackheaded magician boyfriend now? What do you do on dates, pull rabbits out of hats or something?"

James was unfazed by the insult, probably because I had unleashed some much worse things on him in the past. "I think I liked you better when you were drooling all over me" was all he said. I squeezed his hand, mentally applauding his ability to come up with such a Lily-esque comeback.

"At least he doesn't bore me to hell and back with his Japanese gopher jokes," I retorted. James squeezed my hand this time, congratulating me on using his usual suave manners. Well, suave or not, it had the desired effect. Her face was the color of my hair—and _that_ is saying something.

"Vernon is not boring! He's a manager at his company!" she shrilled tightly. "And they're _Japanese_ _golfer_ jokes!"

"Oh yes. Those awfully exciting tales of making drills must keep the two of you up all night," I said sarcastically. Petunia's angular frame swelled up indignantly.

"Lily Evans," she said, her voice quivering. "I swear I will—"

Whatever she was going to do to me, she'll just have to keep to herself for the rest of eternity. My parents hurried out, looking weary at the sight of their two daughters, tensed up with eyes positively smoldering at each other. Tuney was the first to snap out of it.

"Mum!" she whined. "Look what they've done!"

I had to give my mother credit for not letting her eyes bug out too much. She then turned to me; I smiled sheepishly back. Her gaze then fell, from my face to my…hands?

Oh yeah, my hands. Well, _hand_, actually, which was still clasped together with another hand. James's hand. Mum looked at me again, unreserved happiness and a certain amount of curiosity shining from her eyes. I knew I'd be in for it later. Right now, though, Mount Petunia was about to blow.

"What's wrong, dear?" our mother asked her elder daughter. "I think it's quite lovely."

"Mother, take a look around. Do you see any other houses with colorful, painted walls?"

Mum craned her neck, squinting against the fast-falling night. "No, I don't."

"Exactly. We are the only ones with this monstrosity. And it's all her fault!" she yelled, pointing at me.

"Petunia…" Dad approached her slowly. "It is really that bad?"

"YES!" she screeched, stamping her feet. "Yes, it is! People are going to _talk_ about this!"

"Then let them talk," I snarled. "Let them talk and admire the uniqueness. _My_ uniqueness," I added, a not-so-subtle barb laced in my words. "Let them laugh at the one who tried to hold me back."

"Lily!" Mum said, shocked at my audacity.

Dad shushed her. "Your sister is right, Tunes," he said. "Being different isn't a sin, you know."

Petunia let out a strangled cry mixed with a sob and ran into the house. I faced my parents defiantly, ready for the scolding and the lecture. It never came.

"That Petunia," my mother sighed. "She always tried so hard…"

"That bloody Petunia," I muttered under my breath, earning a tired glare from Mum, who suddenly looked very old and very fragile. "Sorry," I amended. "But honesty's the best policy, right?"

"Oh Lily," she laughed, pulling me into a hug. When we separated, her shirt was a mishmash of colors. I looked guiltily up at her, hiding my paint-splattered person behind James. Suddenly, she noticed him. "James!" she cried. "Oh, dear, we're so sorry to keep you here so late. You must be hungry," she added, snapping into caring-mother mode. James looked startled.

"Huh? Oh, that's perfectly fine. I told my parents that me and Lily would be probably out the whole day anyway. You don't have to do anything, really!"

"Repeat that," my father jumped into the conversation. "Repeat what you just said."

James shot a nervous glance at me. "Er, I said that my parents would expect me and Lily to be out the entire day?"

"'You and Lily,'" Dad said. "_You and Lily_. You told me you were going with a group of friends."

I gulped. This was it. We'd given ourselves away. James's hands tightened around my wrists and my nails dug into my palms. Suddenly, I found myself wrenched away from him. Or rather, he was very abruptly pulled away from me. By my father, who, instead of looking angry, was pumping James's entire arm up and down.

"JUST THE TWO OF YOU!" he cried happily. "SO IT _WAS_ A DATE!"

James managed a sort of grimace and a smile. Dad let go of him and came towards me with arms spread.

"No no no no no, Dad." I said, backing away rapidly. "No, don't even think about—"

He enveloped me in a gigantic hug. "I'm proud of you for acting on your feelings, Lily," he said after releasing his chokehold on me. I rubbed the side of my arms, positive that they were bruised. "As a young woman," he went on, "your mother failed to recognize the affection she held for me and I had to actually _ask her out_—" he said the words like how I would say _I love Quidditch_. "—horrifying experience. Never let it happen to you, James."

"That's enough from you," I said, shoving my father playfully. "Give James some food, then send him home. I'm sure he's had enough of our family's weirdness for one day."

"Actually, I'd rather—" James started to say, but I cut across him.

"Go in, grab some granola bars, then go home. Got it?"

"—stay," he finished. "Oh, all right, if you want me gone that badly."

I laughed, shaking his arm. "Loosen up, Potter. That was a joke."

He winced. "Watch it! It's the arm that your dad just mauled."

"Oh. Sorry." I grabbed his other arm. "So, come on in, and my mum will make some dinner. We'll eat, and t_hen_ you can go home."

* * *

><p>"D'you want me to walk you home?" I asked James as we stepped outside. "Acting on my feelings, you know. And before you ask, I do <em>not<em> have feelings for you."

"Actually, yes," he said. "Because I feel so much safer with big, bad Lily protecting me."

"Oh, of course. Silly me. Let me get my wand." I returned to the house, calling out to my parents where I was going. An enthusiastic roar from my father pretty much told me I could stay the entire night and they wouldn't care. James was waiting for me on the doorstep, and held out his arm mockingly for me to take. I squeezed it as hard as I could and hoped this was his bad arm. A sharp intake of breath told me it indeed was. I smirked at him. He said nothing. We walked in a stoic silence, with James trying to salvage some dignity. At last, he opened his mouth.

"That kiss—on the cheek…" he began.

"Go on," I sighed. "I _knew_ this was coming."

"Did you—did you kiss me because you thought I need extra motivation to continue with the Muggle lessons, or were you acting on your feelings?"

"I acted on my feelings," I said and before he could get too excited, tacked on the rest, "and my feelings were that you needed more motivation. Believe or not, I was rather looking forward to the lessons, after the brainpower you showed on those calculus problems."

"So it was for the first reason," he stated. I bit my lip. "Tell me, Lily."

"It was," I admitted. A quiet scoff came from him, half amused, half self-pitying. My teeth sank deeper into the fleshy inside of my mouth. It would draw blood soon.

"I didn't need extra motivation."

"Huh?"

"I had reason enough to start studying Muggles, even without the kiss. Though the kiss was nice," he added.

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess. The reason was me."

James turned to me with fake surprise! "Blimey! No wonder they call you the smartest witch of the age!"

"You're brilliant, James."

"I know."

"You're a pain," I added.

"I know."

"You're actually not that bad."

"I kn—_what_?"

I swatted away his incredulous face. "I said, you'renotactuallythatbad. Don't make me say it again," I warned.

James shook his head. "Lily, I love you."

I stared hard at him. "You know, you say that a lot. And when things get repeated too much, they lose their meaning."

"They wouldn't if the meaning has never been reciprocated in the first place," he shot back.

"Still," I muttered rebelliously. "When you say you love me when I'm just barely beginning to tolerate you, how am I supposed to know when you're actually serious or not?"

"Merlin forbid I should ever be Sirius," he said with a shudder. I shoved him again. "Okay, okay. But, I thought every girl's dream is to hear those three words?"

"Not this girl," I sighed. "Just keep your confessions of love to yourself."

"Okay."

We walked a little ways in another silence. Even summer nights were uncomfortably warm, and I found myself longing for a nice, cold, iced drink. James seemed to be deep in thought, apparently pondering something far more in-depth than me. Soon, I recognized Marlene's mailbox, the very one that he had obliterated with my bike. I let go of his arm, which I had been clutching this entire time; surely he could walk the last few meters on his own.

"See you…" I paused, realizing that we hadn't made another appointment. "Er, when d'you want to…"

James shrugged. "I dunno. You can always owl me."

"Okay," I shrugged back. "I'll, um, be going now."

"You can't go back by yourself in the dark!" he protested. "If I didn't let you do it in broad daylight, then I sure as hell am not going to let you do it in the thick of night."

"Then why'd you make _me_ walk _you_ home?" I asked. "Was that to make me stay over during the night?"

"Yeah!" he said. Then he hesitated. "I mean—you don't mind, do you?"

"The fact that I'll be spending the night at a humongous house with two other blokes I despise? Oh no, I don't mind at all." I snarled. In my mind. Out loud, I heard myself say, "Sure, why not."

Bloody hell. I've been possessed by the devil.

He looked elated and a little confused by my sudden niceness. "And you won't be stuck alone with me and Sirius," James told me. "I'm pretty sure Marlene'll be there too. She sleeps over a lot."

My eyes bugged out. "Not in the same room as Sirius, I hope?"

"Oh, Merlin, no," he gagged, as if the very thought left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. It probably did. "No, there's a room just for her. We can put you next-door to her, if you want."

I stifled a groan. Sirius, James, _and_ Marlene. Things just kept getting better and better. "I'll take the farthest room from hers," I said. "So that I can actually get some sleep tonight, without her talking her mouth off right in my ear."

"All right then."

We were at the gate. As soon as James pushed it open, the front door burst open as well.

"Evans!" yelled Sirius, with a huge grin. "I knew you'd come."

"Hi Lily." Marlene was more reserved, although smiling as well. And...did I just see that trademark evil glint in her eyes? That's it. She's definitely not going to let me sleep tonight.

"Hello, Sirius," I sighed. "Hey, Marlene."

"You're staying, right?" Sirius asked as we walked inside. I nodded resignedly. The living room, which was every bit as big and imposing as I remembered, seemed slightly sinister in the almost-darkness. A single light was lit, and Dorea Potter sat beneath it, reading. She looked up as we approached, her face splitting into a bright smile.

"Hello, Lily," she greeted me with a hug. That surprised me, in a pleasant way. "Will you be staying here tonight?"

"Yep," I said, trying to make my voice upbeat. "Actually, I'd better call home first, to let my parents know. Do you have a telephone?" I asked Dorea, although I knew the answer.

"No," she answered, frowning slightly. "Should we send them an owl?"

I waved a hand. "Nah, they won't know what to do with it. Besides, I don't think they'd care. I mean," I rushed to add, "I think that they think that James is very reliable…"

"Good," James's mother beamed. "Marlene? Show Lily to her room, will you, dear?"

"Sure thing," the blonde answered. "C'mon, you two. Let's all go upstairs."

James and Sirius looked up from the dinner table, hastily throwing down their forks and wiping their mouths. I rolled my eyes. Those two could eat an elephant. As they sprang up after us, I let my ponytail down, wincing at how grimy my hair was. Marlene seemed to read my mind.

"There's an adjoining bathroom between our bedrooms," she told us. "You can use the shower first."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

There was a new awkwardness between us that never used to exist. I wondered how it could've happened. That bothered me all the while when Marlene was showing me my room and the promised bathroom—which as glorious, by the way—and the dresser with clothes that I had no doubt will fit me perfectly. It wasn't until we were all settled in James's room, did the gnawing worry reluctantly leave. And when you're alone in such a small space with the same people as I was, you'd be insane to worry about anything else other than making it out of there alive.

"So," Sirius said, reclining back. "How was your little date?"

"It wasn't a date," I muttered, but no one heard me. For James had turned to face the other two and announced quite casually,

"I blew up an oven."

Sirius's eyes widened. He jumped up to high-five his best mate. "That is pretty hardcore, Prongs."

"Technically," I managed to put a word in. "It wasn't during the actual date."

"When was it, then?"

"A few hours after it. And he blew up a good chunk of my house too," I said. Sirius wasn't grinning anymore.

"Prongsie," he said, "let me get this straight. You two went on a date—"

"It wasn't a date!"

He ignored me. "—then you went back to her house, where you blew up her oven?"

"You have no idea how wrong that sounds," James remarked. "But yeah, I did."

"Actually, I do have an idea," Sirius smirked at me. I glared back and reminded myself that God must've meant for him to live a while longer. Because, if otherwise, he'd be sitting right next to me, instead of across the room. But it didn't make me feel much better. The only thing that could at the moment was the feel of my fingers around his neck.

"But how was the date?" Marlene asked, saving me from further innuendos from her boyfriend.

James shrugged at that. "It was fine."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "So the oven part was the highlight of the day?"

I met James's eyes, and I knew he was thinking of Tuney's breakdown and the events which led to that. I shook my head—twisted it slightly, really—and looked away. I don't know why, but what we did felt…private. I didn't want Sirius or Marlene or anyone else to know about it.

"Yep," James said nonchalantly. Sirius either was extremely talented at detecting a lie, or simply knew him too well. I suspect the latter.

"They're keeping something from us," he said to Marlene. "I bet it's something…spicy."

And just like that, the innuendos returned.

"I'm going to bed," I retorted. "No, don't you dare say anything about that, Black!"

"'Night, Lils!" I heard him call as I made my way to my room, Marlene at my side. Then, in a lower voice, "One feisty girl you got there, mate."

"Shut it, you."

"You shut it."

"Get out of my room, Pads."

"Is that all they ever do?" I whispered to Marlene.

"Pretty much," she whispered back.

"Poor Mr. and Mrs. Potter," I said fervently.

"Yeah," she agreed. "You gonna shower or what?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'M BACK! After two months…<strong>

**The reason that I'm slacking worse than usual on this story is because I'm currently working on a May 2nd tribute fic, and trying to mend the plot in another fic before it goes headfirst down a cliff. But I've got my awesome Marauder groove back on! So the next update **_**should**_** be faster than this one, but I make no promises. **

**~Gella**


	13. Oh Damn, I'm in Trouble

"James," I murmured. "James."

"Lily," he replied, equally quiet. I was laying on my back on a soft, cushy surface, and he was leaning over me, drawing closer and closer. Our lips met.

"James," I whispered again.

"What?" he answered. Only this time his voice wasn't nice and soft like it had been in my dream. It was back to his normal, obnoxious—wait. In my _dream_?

I jerked up and my face promptly smashed into his. A colorful bit of profanity from him informed that both of our noses were broken. I moaned, tentatively feeling the fragile bone and the warm, gushing blood, then cursed as well, grabbing my wand off the dresser.

"_Episkey_," I growled, fixing my nose, then his. "What the _hell_ was that for?"

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "I was just coming to give you this, then you spazzed awake and made my perfectly straight nose crooked. I should ask you what the hell was that for."

"Well, I was sleeping, and then I woke up, and then…" I trailed off, not wanting to explain my dream to him in the least. "What were you going to give me anyways?"

"This," he held up the Muggle camera we got in London. "I thought you might've wanted to product the pictures."

"_Produce_ the pictures," I corrected him. "But yeah, we can take it to a pharmacy later. Now get out and let me change."

As soon as he shut the door behind him, I collapsed on the bed again. Burrowing deep into the pillows, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to recall my dream, which had already begun to fade in the way that dreams do. There was definitely kissing involved, that I was sure of, and I got the general impression that I—well, dreamland me—had rather enjoyed it.

I moaned again, sat up and shook my head violently. No, this was _not_ happening. Absolutely _not_.

_Actually, yes it is_, a voice whispered in my head.

"Yeah, it is," I agreed resignedly and plunked my head onto the fluffy down throw. I stayed that way for a few minutes, then dragged myself out of bed and opened a drawer where I had seen some clothes last night. Well, there were clothes in there all right, but I somehow I suspected James had an extra motive other than to drop off the camera. But I couldn't make myself care, and my carelessness found me stumbling downstairs in a pair of cottony, half-an-inch-long shorts and a skimpy tank top. Sirius and Marlene were already sitting at the solid, oak breakfast table, eating from what looked like silverware from the Buckingham Palace.

"Hey Lils," Marlene waved. "Nice shorts."

"Morning" Sirius burped. "James replaced the things that were in there?"

"Hi," I said to both of them. "And yeah, I think he did. Where is he, anyway? I need to talk to him."

"He's out in the yard somewhere. Or in the air," Sirius added. I made to get up, but he gestured for me to keep seated. "He told me everything about your London date."

"It wasn't a date," I sighed. My voice had no conviction to it at all. "And?"

"And…it sounded…interesting."

"'Interesting' can go so many ways in your mind," I muttered.

He turned to Marlene with a smirk. "Hear that, Mars? _That's_ the first thing she thinks of when I say interesting! We've almost succeeded in corrupting Lily!"

"That's great," Marlene said dryly. "Congratulations."

I sighed again and wandered into the backyard, though a small park would've been a more accurate name for it. Just as Sirius had said, James was hovering some twenty feet about me on his no-doubt super-expensive, super-fast, super-coveted broomstick. Not that I'd have a clue. My dream broom was just something that didn't make my arse hurt like bloody hell when I sat on it. And, of course, those brooms don't exist.

He spotted me on the swing and shot downwards like a bullet, pulling up a second before he could hit the ground, and before he could flatten my nose again.

"Showoff," I accused as he bounded towards me with way too much energy for a morning.

"What's your skill worth if other people don't know about it?" he countered, sitting next to me.

"Don't worry, people know about it all right. It's just that some in particular, namely, me, don't really appreciate being beaned in the face by a bloke the size of a small boulder."

He casually threw his arm around my shoulders. I inched away. He gave me a look but stayed put. "As much as I'd love to continue this philosophical discussion, let's move on to something else."

"All right. Do you think my parents will be mad at me?"

He thought about this. "No. Because you're with me," he added.

I rolled my eyes. "That's the most worrying aspect of the entire thing."

"Well, they like me, I think. So they won't be too angry at you," he told me wisely.

"If I'm still alive by one-thirty, meet me at my house and we'll go 'product' the pictures," I elbowed him playfully. He elbowed back. "Damn, that's one sharp elbow you got there."

"I know," he said, flourishing his forearms and narrowly missing my head. "I got it from my mum."

"You're hilarious. I'm going home now, okay?"

"No! Stay a little longer," he pleaded. I frowned. "Please?"

"Fine," I said. "Do I just sit around and endure the sexual jokes at my expense or what?"

"That's one option. You can also play Quidditch with us—there're more choices, hold on!" he said to my look of horror. "Dad's got about five million shelves of books in his study, we can go over to Marlene's house. Or we can, you know, just chat." He looked at me hopefully. "Sound good?"

"Show me your dad's study," I said.

He got up with a groan. "I should've never told you that."

* * *

><p>James didn't lie. His father's study was about the size of the entire west wing in the Hogwarts library, and just as bountiful. I nervously reached out a finger and touched the binding of an ancient volume, afraid that the pages will crumble to dust if I asserted any pressure.<p>

"Wow," I whispered. "This is crazy."

"Only you'd whisper around books," James said with a sigh. He flopped down on the thick rug, wearing an expression of intense suffering as I made my way through the first couple of shelves. I finally worked up the nerve to actually pull out one. It was everything I imagined it to be: yellowed, veined pages; mysterious dark stains blotted here and there; strange languages mixed with old English words. It chilled me to the bone. I shoved it back into its spot, shivering slightly.

"Are you scared of _books_, Lily?" James called. "They don't bite, you know. Except one, in the very back, there. I still have the scar from it."

"They don't scare me," I protested. "They just… unnerve me somewhat."

"If you say so."

I went on, randomly pulling books and looking at them, then returning them a few moments later. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore and practically sprinted out, dragging James with me.

"So you _are_ scared of books," he concluded. "It's probably because those ones—they're Mum's."

"Your mother is a scary lady," I panted.

"Nah. Just her family."

"Who, you? Yeah, I agree—oh." I understood what he meant. "_Her_ family."

"Yeah."

"Poor Sirius," I sighed.

"What about me?" asked a voice. A moment later, something cold and slimy landed on my head and slid down my neck. I shrieked, writhing around, arms flailing.

"Get it off!" I screamed. Sirius chuckled and Summoned the offender—a forlorn-looking slug—off my person. I stomped to him and gave him a hard shove. He didn't fall, and was still chortling as I seethed in front of him. Marlene was doing her best to hold her giggles in (and failing), but James was howling with laughter. I glared at the three of them, unsure of which to hex first.

"Oh, mother," Sirius snickered, clutching his midsection. "Oh my sweet mother of Merlin, Lily."

"If you want to have children in the future, Black…" I warned. He stopped immediately.

"Who would want to have _children_?" he asked, appalled. "Disgusting, sticky little creatures—"

"Congratulations, you have finally succeeded in describing yourself."

"—always crying, always wanting something. Ugh!" he shuddered. "Can't stand them."

"You were that once," James told him.

"Actually, I wasn't. Me and Reg got a nice, full dose of the Cruciatus Curse when we spoke at the dinner table, you see," Sirius said brightly. We all fell silent at this cheery bit of information.

Marlene cleared her throat. "So…"

"So…" Sirius hummed, tossing the slug up and down.

"So…" James leaned against the staircase and ruffled his hair. I noticed that it was back to its usual crumpled state.

"Sooooo…." That was yours truly with one hand scrabbling at her back, trying to get the last of the slime off. "Bloody hell, Sirius, what _was_ that?"

"This?" he said, dangling the thing by one end. "This is a rare Lithuanian Horned Slug. Don't ask how I got it."

James raised his eyebrows at him. "I dunno, mate. My father happens to collect various specimens of the slug family."

"Me and Lily are going upstairs," Marlene said and towed me away, ignoring my loud protests. Once in my bedroom, she dumped me hurriedly on the carpet and faced with an expectant expression.

"I heard," she began in a low, excited voice, "_that you got your nails done_!"

"Yes," I said in a monotone. "Before that we got ice cream, and then we tried on Muggle clothing—_that_ was horrible—and we also went to this concert, where I became a fangirl for the first time and James got all jealous and sulky—oh, that was good fun."

Marlene was staring at me. "Yes, Marlene? D'you think we didn't do enough? Should we have gone somewhere else afterwards?"

"Lily," she whispered, ecstatic, "Lily!"

"What?"

She suddenly jumped up. "WOO-HOO! THAT IS _AWESOME_!"

I watched her prance around the room with undisguised fear. "Have you…what _happened_, Mar?"

"It sounded like a nice date," she said, suddenly all prim and proper. "Then you two went home, and he blew up your oven…"

"Oh, not you too!" I shouted, throwing a pillow at her. "That's _gross_!"

"Okay, okay," she put up her hands in surrender. "Now what? You're just gonna go home now?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I'll go crazy if I have to be shut up with those two."

"Got any more plans with your boyfriend today?" she asked.

I nearly fell off the bed. "Dammit, Marlene! What is _wrong_ with you?"

"So do you?" she pressed.

"Yes," I confessed, rather waspishly. "We're going to produce the pictures."

From her immediate, perky reaction, I figured that she hadn't found out about that bit. "We were being tourists! And tourists take pictures!" I cried.

"Sure, Lily," she told me. "Just give me one afterwards. I'd love to have a picture of you and James snogging on the London Bridge hanging on my wall. Right next to the one of the blown-up oven, of course."

I really did fall off this time. "On second thought," I growled, stalking towards the door, "Sirius and James are like little cherubs compared to you."

Marlene clapped her hands in delight. "James's face tacked onto a cherub's! Perfect for a Valentine's Day date!"

I slammed the door.

"All right, Evans?" Sirius asked, materializing in front of me. I just barely managed to hold in my scream. James appeared next to him. Bunched up in his hands was a flowing, silvery thing.

"What's that?" I asked interestedly. "That's not an Invisibility Cloak, is it?"

"As a matter of fact, it is," Sirius told me. "I thought that, considering you and Prongs are officially a couple now—"

My wand was halfway in my hand before a lazy flick of his made it spin in a frenzied circle and drop into his conveniently-outstretched hand. I gaped at it; I hadn't even seen him draw his wand.

"Allow me to go on, yes?" without waiting for an answer, he continued. "Well, as I was saying, since you are now somewhat one of us, we thought we could show you a few secrets or two."

"Give me my wand back. Now."

James threw it back, shooting an irritated look at his mate. "Sirius is hung-over," he told me. "When he is, he does some crazy things. Like when we made the decision to test the fireworks? He downed about half a bottle of firewhiskey the night before."

"I'm not drunk. Shocking, innit?" Sirius said to me. "Anyway, I'm feeling a little woozy—let Jamsie tell you a bit more about…"

He wandered away, mumbling to himself.

"Yep, he's drunk," I remarked. "So, this Cloak of yours."

"Ah, right. Well, my dad gave it to me a couple of years ago, and he got it from his father, and so on. They've always lived in Godric's Hollow, too," he mused. "Never went anywhere else."

"It's the real deal, right? Not just a traveling cloak with a Disillusion Charm?"

"No way! Does this feel like a traveling cloak to you?"

"All right, I believe you. But this is so cool…"

He grinned broadly. "It is, isn't it? We've never been caught when we were under it."

I looked up sharply. So this was how they messed around in the dead of night without ever getting into trouble. "Well, I know your secret now," I said. "And I'm surprised Remus would go along with this."

James shrugged, heading downstairs. I followed. "He has to. The lone voice of reason, he is. Without him, we'd probably all be dead ten times over."

"You four are unbelievable," I shook my head. "I really have to go now, okay?"

"All right. One-thirty?"

"One-thirty," I confirmed.

"Should I, uh, walk you home?" he asked.

"James, it's eleven in the morning and I have my wand. It's sweet of you, but, really, not exactly necessary."

"Yeah, you're right," he said sheepishly. We stood awkwardly for a moment. Then I threw caution to the winds and hugged him quickly. A loud wolf-whistle told me that Sirius was in need of a fair bit of spanking when I next see him. I heard James curse and a brief scuffle occurred. I smiled to myself and started walking towards home.

* * *

><p>"Oh Lily," Petunia greeted me at the door with a wicked smile and a singsong-y tone. "Mum and Dad are waiting for you."<p>

I made a big show of admiring the paint job on the house, while pointedly ignoring my sister. "My, doesn't this look nice against the blue sky and green grass?" I said to myself. "Compared with the normal faded red—even someone with brains barely enough to fill an eggcup would see."

A dark scowl graced Tuney's horsey features and she stomped back inside. Her bedroom door slammed. I strode in leisurely and found both of my parents sitting on the couch, fixing me with a hard stare. I swallowed.

"Uh…hey," I waved lamely. "Lovely weather, isn't it?"

"Lily." My father's voice wasn't loud, wasn't angry. That scared me. "Just where exactly were you last night?"

"The Potters'," I answered nervously. "See, I walked James home, right? But then he said I couldn't walk back on my own, so I stayed. I wanted to call you guys, but they didn't have a phone, and—"

"So you didn't come back immediately this morning, but instead let us toil in agony for a few more hours?" That was my mother. She wasn't mad either. Just eerily calm.

"Yes," I whispered.

Dad sighed heavily. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt. "Lily, you know how much I like that Potter kid. And you know how much both me and your mother support a possible future bond between you two. But this isn't acceptable. We've got enough to worry about as it is with Petunia, we don't need our more responsible daughter wandering off to the moon too."

"Okay," I said. "I'm sorry. I should've come back right away."

"Yes, you should have," Mum agreed. "But since this the first time it's happened, we'll let it slide."

I looked up, a happy smile on my face. The smile disappeared as she raised a finger.

"_However_," she put extra stress on the word, "you are grounded today. Just one day."

A distant crash came from the direction of Petunia's room. She probably had her ear jammed up the keyhole, then threw something at the door in fury at my short sentence. I paid that no heed.

"Today?" I asked. "But—I've got to meet James later!"

"That cannot be helped," said Mum with her professor voice. "You're paying for your fault."

"But—" I turned to my dad. "You said how much you wanted me and James to get together, right?"

"Yes, I did, Lily, but you did have us on the brink of a breakdown there," he reminded me in a tired voice.

"Can I do it tomorrow? Please?"

"No," Mum said, and that was final. I chewed my lip, thinking. "And no using that owl of yours, either. You are complete cut off from the outside world today. Be thankful it isn't any longer."

"Okay," I said in a small voice. "Call me when it's lunch."

I walked slowly up to the attic with shaky legs. Once safely inside, I threw myself on the bed, preparing for a massive tantrum. But I couldn't make myself angry, because I knew they were right. What made me upset is that…well, I'll be breaking a promise. I don't break promises. Not even ones made to James Potter. I just don't.

Why did I care, anyway? Why did I care so much about his hurt feelings? I_ didn't_. It just _bothered_ me, knowing he'll be standing in front of my house, being told that Lily couldn't see him right now. I hope they tell him _why_ he couldn't; it'd be too much to bear otherwise. I groaned and rolled over. Tunia turned a baleful eye upon me, obviously begging to be let out.

"I can't," I told her. "You're grounded too, I guess."

She hooted at me and turned her back. I closed my eyes and embraced the ache in my conscience.

* * *

><p>It was a few hours later when I woke up. I sat up slowly, easing my cramped neck. A peek at my alarm clock told me that lunchtime was an hour and a half ago and my family hadn't woken me up. I stood up and stumbled outside: voices had stirred me from sleep, and I intended to find out who those voices belonged to. I had my suspicious and they were confirmed.<p>

"I'm _so_ sorry, James, but Lily has something else right now."

That was Petunia's deadly sweet voice.

"What do you mean?" James said in a frustrated tone. "She made plans with me!"

"Well," Tuney tittered. My hand gripped the banister tightly; my ears strained harder. "I suppose you'd be sad to know that you're not the only bloke in her life."

"_What_?" James snapped.

I almost said that out loud, then remembered that I was eavesdropping. But _what_ was she talking about?

"Oh yes," she continued, the two words laden with poisonous honey. "This other boy came by earlier—wasn't much of a looker, to be honest. He should really try washing his hair once in a while," Petunia added. My nails dug into the wood and I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to not scream. "Anyways, she went off with him, not even a goodbye towards me. So, now you know what an unfaithful, cheating skank of a sister I've got—"

"Listen." James was talking again, and I felt faint with relief that he didn't believe her. "I don't know what you're on about, but never, not in a million years, would Lily go off with _Snape_."

"Oh, is that his name then? I think I've heard of Lily talk about him. Quite often, actually. Oh, right, isn't he her best friend or something?"

"Was," James replied stiffly. "Lily hasn't gone with him. She's inside. Let me in."

"Sorry, no can do," Petunia said nonchalantly. "She told me specifically to not let this tall, messy-haired magician into the house. By that, I'm guessing she meant you. So, off you go, back to your lair to pull rabbits out of hats now."

I could practically hear the anger roll off James in waves, and the fact that his honor was the only thing keeping him from pushing my sister against a wall and beating her black and blue. Well, he might not hit a girl, but I would—and my sister to boot too!

As soon as I heard the front door close, I stormed downstairs. Petunia smiled with satisfaction, her big, pale eyes brimming with pleasure at my torment.

"What," I snarled, "the hell was that?"

"That, dear sister, was my thanks to you," she said airily. "And—"

Whatever she was about to say next, I will never know, for as soon as the words left her mouth, she was on the ground, one hand against a red cheek and whimpering. I lowered my shaking hand and looked at it. This was the first time I had ever laid hand on Petunia. Never before was I so consumed with rage and never before were her eyes filled with such enormous, naked fear. I stood up. My entire body was shaking. I looked down on her trembling figure with all the disgust she had openly shown towards me all these years.

"Try and toy with us," I said, "and pay for it."

I was turning to make a dramatic exit and all that, when the door opened again. My mother's eyes fell on the wreck that was her elder daughter, then swiveled in my direction. You didn't have to be a genius to put two and two together and get it.

"Lily Evans," she said quietly. "What's happened to you?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: YUSH, LONG CHAPTER FTW. I had originally planned for this to have exactly 15 chapters, but looks like that ain't happening now. Also, I'm writing this tribute fic for—that's right—the Battle of Hogwarts! Yes, I know it's cliché, but it's my first time doing it, so cut me some slack. I'm going to upload one chapter a day starting May 2<strong>**nd****, so I figured I should start advertising now :P **

**~Gella**


	14. No Chapter Name This Time, Sorry :c

I'm grounded. I'm to not set one foot beyond the porch. I'm going to write a letter of apology to my sister. I'm going to do all her chores for her. I'm going to do whatever she orders me to do, no matter how degrading and humiliating it is. I'm going to sit down and have a civil conversation the next time Vernon comes over. I am also not to call him Vermin. I'm not going to see any of my friends until school starts. I'm not going to see James until school starts.

That was the end of the riot act Mum read me. It was also the end of my life.

This time, the tears came.

Now, all cried out and hoarse, I lay on my bed, gazing emptily into space. I shouldn't have slapped her. I knew I shouldn't. But at the same time, she deserved that. Just once, for all those snide comments and mean remarks. Just once, then never again. It would've been a good plan, if not for the fact that, you know, our mother had walked in right at the epitome of it. I've never seen her look so furious. Her expression…it terrified me. It was disappointment, anger, and sadness squeezed all into one. She looked at me once, then turned to help my sister into her room with a cup of hot tea. After that, was the beginning of the end.

I don't regret what I did, not one bit. It didn't bother me that I feel no remorse either. No one messed with me, and definitely with not the two people in my life that I'm the most confused about. What made me just a bit upset was that my mother didn't bother asking what made me slap Petunia. She spelled out every little aspect of what I was expected to do and then sent me to my room. I mean, what happened to freedom of speech and all that?

And then there was another matter at hand. It was early August. Term starts on September first. That left almost an entire month until I could see anyone I wanted to see. I wasn't sure if I could endure that.

The doorbell rang, shrill and loud. I stayed where I was. The ring came again, this time more insistently than before. I cursed and stomped downstairs, expecting the hulking blubber of my future brother-in-law. I was right. With barely a grunt in my direction, he squeezed past into the living room. The crack appeared in the doorframe; behind me, the couch wheezed as Vernon Dursley piled the full weight of his flab upon it. I found myself feeling sorry for the cushions.

"Petunia's in her room," I said stiffly and turned to go.

"Just a second," he boomed. I winced. "So…I heard you slapped my fiancée."

"Why, yes, yes I did," I replied lightly. _Fiancée_. Not girlfriend, fiancée. He'd proposed and she hadn't even told me.

"Let me tell you something, _sister_," he sneered the word. "Lay a hand on her again, and I will make you wish you have never been born."

"Brave now, are we?" I asked. "Did she tell you what she did to make me lay a hand on her?"

"Something or other about this your magician boyfriend and some other freak in your lot," he said. "Speaking of that, where's the good-for-nothing bloke anyway? Your boyfriend, I mean."

"Home, I'd think," I answered. Civil conversation, Lily, think civil…

Vermin—Vernon grunted. "And he'd do well to stay there. I don't want any of your kind near me."

"Really?" I asked. "That came as a shock. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"We'll chat later," he said with an evil grin. I resisted the urge to blast his blubbery face off right there and then. Instead, I raced up to my room and spent the next two hours buried in my Transfiguration textbook. But it was no use. I was rubbish at the subject, and there was a certain someone who used to help me out with the most difficult spells and theories. A certain someone whom I'll see in little less than a lifetime or so.

You were thinking it was James, weren't you? Well, it's not. It's Mary. She's a whiz at Transfiguration, almost as good as James. James…

With a fevered passion, I dove back into the book again. Do not think about James. Do not think about Mary. Do not even think about Sirius and Marlene doing what they do. Study. Short, five-minute break. More studying. Feed Tunia some Owl Treats that she promptly abandons. Study. Ignore the shrill giggles of Petunia and her _fiancé_. Move onto Potions. Leave the room only for life necessities, such as food, water, and the bathroom.

This routine worked quite well for a few weeks. Then, after my second civil conversation with Vermin (yes, Vermin. Screw the rules, he will always be Vermin to me), it all fell apart.

The rules said that I was supposed to do Petunia's chores for her, right? And that I'd obey her every order, right? Right. One night, my parents were at one of my father's coworker's house, leaving me alone with my sister and Vernon. And this is how it happened.

"Hey Lily," she called sweetly from the living room. "Will you come here?"

I left my spot at the sink (I was scrubbing at the dishes which had previously held a stack of meat pies, of which Vermin had developed a sudden longing for. Guess who made it.) and tried my best to not storm. It didn't quite work.

"Yes?" I asked. Petunia smiled up at me.

"Prepare some hot water, will you? I want to soak my feet before I go to bed."

I looked pointedly at the clock, which read eight forty-five. She continued to smile at me.

"Okay," I muttered.

"Okay, _what_?"

"Okay, _miss_," I said through gritted teeth. I stormed back to the kitchen and grabbed the oldest, grossest bowl-pan-thingy we owned and filled it with hot water, made a tad more scorching with the help of a simple heating charm. Then I carried it back to the couple, taking special care to splash water everywhere as I walked. I set it down at her feet and turned to leave. My sister's nasally voice called me back.

"Take off my shoes, please."

I swallowed and pulled off her slippers.

"And my socks."

Why she was wearing socks in the middle of the summer, I'll never know, only that it stinks something awful if you do. I still run for the nearest bar of soap when I think about that. But I did it. And her reaction when she dipped her bony feet in was priceless.

"ARGHHH!" She shot up and flailed around, kicking over the water with one wild thrust. "LILY EVANS, WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I brought you hot water," I said innocently. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?"

"I—you—ugh!" With that coherent sentence, she ran into her room, which left me and Vermin alone. Great. I gotta be civil now.

"Great episode, that was," I commented to him. "Mind, if you're marrying her, I have a feeling you'll be seeing them a lot."

He grunted something in response that could've been a "Yeah, I know" or a "Go screw yourself". I chose to believe he meant the first one. Because, you know, we're being civil.

"So…when's the wedding?"

He gave me a suspicious look. "You're not invited."

I raised my eyebrows. "I asked, when's the wedding?"

"Dunno yet," he mumbled. "But you, or your crackheaded bunch of magicians, are going to ruin it for us."

"Don't worry, I'm sure me and my crackheaded bunch of magicians will have better things for our time," I retorted.

"Yeah?" he said nastily. "Good. Keep your shiftiness to yourself. I don't want any of your underhanded crap near me."

I didn't respond. He went on.

"And if you find a freak that suits your fancy, don't bother inviting us to your wedding. We don't want to be associated with your lot. It's bad enough that people know about _you_." He said that as if being me was the worst thing someone could possibly be. If that was the case, he must've not known about the creature that was parked on my couch, sneering up at my face right now.

"What're you telling your friends what I am?" I asked. "

"We told them that you go to this facility in the countryside," he said casually. "A place for mentally unstable and violent mutants."

"Ah."

"It's also a well-known women's prison," the hateful thing added. "The methods of discipline there are the most interesting."

"I see."

"They ask about you, you know," he said. "How such a respectable family sprouted spawn like you."

"Petunia's their spawn too," I pointed out.

His piggy little eyes glinted among the folds of fat. "Ah yes. But you see, Petunia is normal. She isn't a freaky little bitch who hangs out with ugly, freaky blokes and has a ruddy _owl_ for a pet. In short, she is not you. And I couldn't be happier with that. Now bring me some more meat pies."

Now, I should've just let that go. Pretend I didn't care. Let him and Petunia treat me like their slave. Yes, I should have. So what do you think I did?

Yeah, yeah, you think the fiery Lily Evans heroically stood her ground and turned Vermin into a flea or something. Or threw an acidic remark with deadly precision and forever stoppered his ability to speak. Something along those lines. It's what you'd expect me to do.

The truth is, I did none of them. Oh sure, I think I might have said something real clever, like "Shut up", and then brought him his bloody meat pies. I might have added just a touch more salt than necessary, too. But after that, I ran. No cool hexes or curses were shot towards the brainless slug. None of my usual sweet words, either. I just ran.

I crashed into my door and stumbled in, sprawling blindly on the bed. My ears pounded with blood, the word still echoing in my skull. Bitch, he had called me. True, I've been called much worse—lemme give you a hint, it starts with an M—and it shouldn't have surprised me, considering what an arse it came from. But I've been through too much recently. Even Lily Evans needs a break sometimes. I scratched a hasty note on a scrap and opened the latch to Tunia's cage. She was instantly awake, eyeing the parchment in my hands.

"Go to James," I told her. She nipped my finger and soared into the night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow, look how the plotline veered from lighthearted Muggle lessons to family drama. I'm bad at keeping things on track, aren't I?<strong>

**~Gella**


	15. I Come Up With a Plan

Sending the note was easy. Trying to oblige it was not.

Before we start, I should probably mention that both of my parents were super light sleepers and they just happened to have their bedroom right next to the door. That was why I was perched on my windowsill, inhaling and exhaling deeply and reminding myself that jumping from twenty feet above the ground to land on solid asphalt was not a stupid idea. Well, at least not when you had a wand with you. That's what I was trying to tell my hyperventilating self, anyway.

"It's okay, Lily," I muttered under my breath. "You're a witch. You can do this."

Before I could change my mind, I jumped. My brain went through three phases: HOLY-MERLIN-THIS-IS-SO-BLOODY-DUMB, I'mgonnadie, and, Hey, this actually isn't that bad. Then I remembered why I had my wand clenched in my hand.

"_ARRESTO MOMENTUM_!"

Just a second before I smashed into the ground, the force of the spell brought me to an abrupt halt. I let out a sigh of relief. Then I was deposited, facedown, straight into a murky puddle.

I scrambled up, coughing and scrubbing at my eyes. I stumbled into the front yard and grabbed my bike, thanking Merlin for 1) the fact that I'm still alive and 2) I hadn't put my bike in the garage, because that would've been bad. I was about to take off when I noticed something. Petunia was frozen, staring at me from her bedroom window. From the looks of it, she was getting up to use the loo. Our eyes met for a split second. Then she ran, probably to our parents' room. I thought about going back in and making something up: _oh, well, I do quite enjoy getting up at two in the morning and going for a little walk with my bike in hand, no biggie..._

I cursed and started pedaling. Behind me, my father's shouts were already waking up half of Britain. I cast a Disillusion Charm over me and my bike, smiling grimly. If my plan didn't work...well, my future wasn't looking very bright.

I don't think I've ever ridden two miles as fast as I did. Desperation pushed me on, and fifteen minutes later, I was there. James, thank Merlin again, was waiting for me.

"Lily!" he whispered, rushing towards me. "Lily, I got your note—but what is this?"

"Grounded—parents going to kill—me," I panted. My legs almost buckled, but he caught me before I could topple headfirst into a bush. "Thanks," I breathed, letting him half-carry, half-drag me to a bench.

"Are you all right? Do you need some water?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine. Listen. All that, about me and Snape? Petunia's lying," I said. "And I most certainly did not tell her to not let you in. I slapped her afterwards, and that's why I'm grounded until school starts."

He looked a great deal happier. "You slapped her?"

"Yeah."

"But she's your sister!"

"She," I said, "is no sister of mine."

James ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Your temper, Lily..."

"My parents are on the way here," I told him. "With any luck, it'll be a couple of minutes before they get here, because I don't think they know the way."

As soon as the words left my mouth, headlights shone from the road. My mother's pale, set face was visible from the passenger window. I curled closer to James's side.

"Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later," I said.

"A true Gryffindor," James said. "Stupid right to the end."

"I wouldn't be talking," I muttered, jabbing him in the ribs.

"Ow," he muttered back. I clutched his hand in mine and counted silently in my head. Timing was everything. If I screwed this up, I was screwed forever. They were getting closer now, almost right in the driveway. A few more seconds should do it...

I turned to James (five, four_..._) "If we get out of this alive, I'll let you try on all the swimsuits and bell-bottom pants you want," I said (three, two, _one_). Then I raised my face and kissed him.

Thinking back, I remembered that it wasn't bad. At all. Like my dream, it was...nice, bordering on enjoyable. I don't know what thoughts went through his head, but if they were anything like mine, then our friends might have a point after all. Do not tell them I said that. My pride will be murdered if you do. You yourself as well. Murdered, I mean. By me.

I pulled away, the happy buzzing inside me almost disguising the fear. James, as it turned out, had other ideas. I could see my parents gaping at us from my peripheral vision, but James just kissed me again like he hadn't seen them, or didn't care. I allowed myself to be drawn into him, because it was probably the last I kiss I will receive from anyone.

I won't lie, the rumors about James Potter were true. He knew how wound a girl up. At that moment, with my arms around his neck and his lips pressed so tightly against mine, I couldn't tell you my name if you asked. My parents could, though.

"LILY MARIE EVANS!"

Ooh, my middle name was uttered. I should probably stop now. I pulled away, hoping the flush in my cheeks could be taken for embarrassment and not the fact that I was kissing James freakin' Potter just a second ago. He murmured something into my hair before letting go, and even then, still had my hand in his. I allowed myself a small smile. Perfect.

"SNEAKING OUT—IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!" Mum screamed. "JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOUNG LADY?"

I noticed that her anger wasn't as bad as when I slapped Petunia. That's a good sign.

"AND TO MEET THIS BOY, TOO! WHAT HAS GOTTEN _INTO_ YOU?"

Okay, _that's_ not a good sign. "I thought you guys liked James," I protested.

"We do like him!" Dad raged. "But when you run away like that—and especially when you were not supposed to go an inch beyond the porch—Lily, there are some lines that cannot be crossed!"

"I know, but—"

"No but's!"

"But—!"

"I said no but's!"

I hung my head. My plan had failed; I was done for. I gave James one last kiss, sort of a goodbye forever before I was carted home and held there for the rest of my life. Either he was very smart and catching onto what I was trying to do, or he was just a lovesick seventeen-year-old boy, but he responded with overwhelming and rather untimely passion. I sighed a little inside for my parents, who had to witness all this. My father cleared his throat.

"Lily," he said gruffly. "Let's go."

"One more minute," I pleaded. Dad grunted something that I hoped was a yes.

A minute of more kissing and cheek-stroking and general PDA later, the infamous Evans patience was up. "_Lily_!"

"John, wait." Mum waited for James to be done. "I have reconsidered," she told us. I looked up, not daring to believe that she was being sincere. "James, you may keep coming to our house to do whatever you and Lily were doing together before—"

"Thank you!" I shouted, jumping up and hugging her. "You're the best, Mum, I love you so much—!"

"—but," she continued.

"I thought you said no but's," I grumbled, dropping my arms.

"Technically, your dad said that," James muttered to me. I elbowed him to be quiet.

"But you two must be supervised at all times by either me or your father, or Petunia or Vernon." I started to protest, but she cut across me. "It's a fair deal, Lily. You can take it or you can leave it."

"I'd take it," James advised.

"I'll take it," I said.

She looked relieved. "Well," she said, "let's go home now, shall we?"

* * *

><p>James came over the very next day. And you will not <em>believe<em> how awkward it was with my father sitting off to the side and pretending to read his newspaper, while in reality watching the two of us like a hawk. Ohhh, it was _so_ awkward. Have I mentioned that already?

"So," I began. "What do you, er, want to learn about today?"

"I dunno," he answered, equally eloquent. "How about we get out the books and just...look at them?"

"Okay."

And look at the book we did. Fifteen minutes later, my dad got up with a loud harrumph ad left the room. I guess two teenagers staring intently at the cover of a college textbook isn't the most exciting thing in the world. As soon as the door closed behind his heels, James let out a breath that neither of us was aware we were holding.

"You must've done something horrible," he said.

"You have no idea."

He accepted that with a simple nod, knowing better to ask. I pried my stiff arms and legs out of the position they'd been in for the entire time that James was here. He got up too, and made a movement towards me. I think he was about to hug me, or something. A cough stopped him. We both turned to see my dad sipping a cup of coffee and nonchalantly watching us from the doorway.

I sighed. "Well, it's been good to see you, James. I think you'd better get back though."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I promised Sirius that I'd..."

He trailed off and left, giving my father a half-wave, half-grimace as he walked out.

"That was a productive night," Dad commented to me. I gave him a look and lugged Petunia's books back to her room. "Oh, I forgot. Tomorrow, Vernon and Tunes'll be home to look after you two, okay?"

"Okay," I called from the attic stairs. And it was okay. Relatively, of course.

The next day, James arrived bright and early. Well, early for _me_, on a _weekend_. I was just rubbing the sleep out of my eyes when the doorbell rang. I tripped my way down the stairs and opened the door.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded first thing.

He blinked. "I thought we'd already settled that."

"It's too early," I grumbled and let him in.

"It's eleven-thirty," he said.

"Exactly. It's hardly time to disturb me from my beauty sleep!"

"Oh, I don't know. You're plenty beautiful already," he winked.

"Don't even start," I warned, smiling. "Well, if you insist on having a lesson right now..."

"Why yes I do, Miss Evans."

I headed upstairs again. He followed me. "So we're back to surnames now, are we?"

"What?" he asked. "Oh, no. It's just felt...right to call you Miss Evans."

"Yeah, well, my name's Lily, and that's what you'll be calling me." I shut my bedroom door. Muttered words that I will not repeat here told me that a certain someone thought he was going to be in my room while I changed. Well, that certain someone will know better now, won't he?

"Done!" I popped back outside cheerily. James rubbed a red bruise on his forehead and gave me a reproachful look, to which I responded with a bright smile. He grumbled all the way downstairs.

"Morning," I said to a sour-faced Petunia (when is she ever _not_ sour-faced?) skulking in her doorway. "You're up early." And yes, if you think I'm a lazy bum, you have not met my sister.

"Thanks to someone running up and down the stairs like a herd of wild elephants," she sniffed.

"Great simile," James said kindly.

"Us? Loud?" I asked. "Honestly, sis, if you knew how much noise you and Vernon make in your bedroom at night..." I watched her pinched expression gain an impressive shade of scarlet.

"That's not the point!" she cried shrilly and stormed away in a huff.

"Now that _that's_ taken care of," I said, "what do we do?"

"We can do what I wanted to do in the first place but never really seemed to get to," James said. "Muggle studies."

"Good idea."

* * *

><p>After dinner, my father cornered me. "So what did you two do today?" he asked.<p>

"Work," I replied. "Lots and lots of it."

"Oh?" The raised eyebrow invited me to go on. I gave him a very succinct version of today's events.

"I made him read about fifty pages and then gave him two essays to do," I said.

"And he was fine with all that?"

"Perfectly fine," I chirped. "He'll be back tomorrow. Will you or Mum be supervising us?"

"I will, actually," he said. "Did everything go smoothly with Petunia?"

"Oh, yes. She was holed up in her room all day long and occasionally called through the door, asking whether we were still alive."

"Oh," Dad said. "Well, that's good. You can go now."

I skipped to my room.

* * *

><p>The next day, we went through the same exact routine as the day before. He read and took notes. I read a book. In the end, he had three new essays to complete and two chapters to read on supernovas and nuclear fusion. My father pretended to not notice the heavy workload, but I heard him sigh when I dropped the science textbook on top of the tall stack of homework James already had.<p>

"Mr. Evans," James said.

Dad looked up. "Yes, James?"

"May I take these home?" he held up two fat volumes. "I wasn't done taking notes, you see."

"Why not stay a little longer?" Dad said, shooting me an appalled look. "Finish the notes and then go?"

"I'd love to, but my parents wanted me back by dinnertime," James said apologetically. He was good at lying—sorry, twisting the truth. Even I, the mastermind behind this, felt a little swayed.

"Oh, all right then. Can you carry that all by yourself?"

"I'm Apparating," James explained.

"Bye James!" I called. "Remember: if the essays aren't to my satisfaction, you'll redo it, and it will be double the length. See you tomorrow!"

"Bye Lily," he called back. With a loud pop, he was gone. My father looked worriedly after him.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" I asked Dad.

"Your mother. Petunia said she's going over to meet Vernon's parents, and I have a presentation to make at work. She's going to watch you two on Tuesday too."

"Tell Petunia I said good luck," I said sincerely. If anyone could raise a son as disgusting and meaty as Vermin Dursley...well, Tuney's going to need all the luck she can get.

I was turning to go to my room when I remembered something. "Dad, am I still grounded?"

"Yes, Lily, you are," he answered.

"So I can't owl anyone?"

"Who are you owling?" The word sounded strange, coming from my father.

"James."

"Why?"

I hoped that my face was as red as it's supposed to be. "Well, I kind wanted to talk to him about...you know...what happened between us the night I snuck out."

He looked torn. "Well, I don't know—I suppose—go ask your mother," he decided.

"That's okay. Just asking." So they're not completely giving in yet. It was a good start today, anyway. My dad left the living room then, but I remained there to draw up tomorrow's schedule. Which, if I may say so myself, was as grueling as ever.

* * *

><p>"Your handwriting has improved a lot," I complimented him as I looked at 'his' essays.<p>

James beamed. "Thanks, Lily!" His expression was so eager that I had to bite my lips to keep from laughing.

"Very well done." I handed back the parchments—my old essays from _way_ back when—and turned to my notebook. "So, we've covered science, history, maths, and English. What to do now..."

I looked at him, and he paled.

"Oh no," he gulped. "I know that look."

I threw a thick map at him. "Memorize everything on the continent of Asia. Recite it to me tomorrow."

"Lily—"

"Do it," I ordered.

"All right," he mumbled. "The _entire_ continent of Asia?"

"Yes. And the Middle East too," I said. "Capitals, landforms, major cities. Oh, and for extra credit—which means you have to do it, whether you want to or not—include a fun fact about each location. Yes? Yes! You have the entire day."

I'm not trying to torture him on purpose, I can promise you that. But hey, the bloke wanted to learn about Muggle Studies, and this was a one-in-a-lifetime chance, _and_ there's actually a plan behind all this, so, why not?

Easy for me to say, anyway. Not so much for him. Oh well. I'm sure the fascinating cultures and languages and religions and whatnot will keep him happy.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Heyyyyyyyyyyy! You haven't heard from me in a while, have you :D I have one more week of school, and then I'm FREEEEEE. So, bear with me. Also, when I'm done with this story, I should be starting Eleni Hoax's long-overdue dare, a LucyLorcan multichappy. Any ideas on that...?**

**~Gella**

**P.S: How was my OTP's first kiss? **


	16. I Need Help With Chapter Names

I'm not sure how he did it, but whatever he did, it must be magic. James Potter rattled off the capitals, landforms, major cities, and two other facts (he was overachieving! I like that.) of twenty-five countries without a hitch, never hesitating. I myself was a little shell-shocked.

"Well?" he asked timidly when he was done. "Did I do it right?"

I couldn't speak just yet. "Uhhhhhhh."

"Lily?"

I shook my head. "That was—that was—" I staggered to the couch. "Gimme a second."

James watched nervously as I slowly reclaimed my ability of speech. During that time, I mentally searched for my mother. Last time I checked, she wasn't in her bedroom. Not the kitchen either. Not the basement or attic. So...ah, there she is.

I flew at James, knocking him dead center beneath Mum's office. "THAT WAS AMAZING," I yelled, loud enough to be heard upstairs. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY MEMORIZED THE CAPITAL, MAJOY CITY, LANDFORMS, AND TWO FACTS ABOUT ALL THE COUNTRIES IN ASIA AND THE MIDDLE EAST! JUST BECAUSE I TOLD YOU TO!"

Okay, so that maybe was a little overboard, but I had to make sure _something_ came out of James's enormous sacrifice. I hoped the silence after my tremendous proclamation was a good one.

"Um, thanks," James said. I got up and dusted off my hands. He followed me uncertainly.

After a few minutes of sitting around and doing nothing, he dared to ask,

"So do I get a day off?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "And I thought you knew better."

I assigned him more essays and diagrams and all that good stuff, but in reality, they were mine. James didn't do a single ounce of work after the memorization task, and that huge enough to compensate. Mum didn't make an appearance, like I hoped she would. Oh well. Mothers were always harder to fool than fathers anyway. It just meant I had to be careful of how I played it.

"Did James go?" she asked as she came downstairs for the first time that day.

"Yeah. He said he was tired. And I thought I went easy on him today!" I sniffed.

"You're working the boy too hard, Lily," she said. "He doesn't deserve all that."

"This coming from the woman who read me bedtime stories from her college workbooks?"

"Well, you're my daughter. I'm allowed to overwork you however I want."

"And he's supposedly in love with me. I'm allowed to overwork _him_ however I want."

Mum shook her head. "I'll feel bad for your children."

"Okay, you can go now," I said. "Honestly, you're as bad as Marlene..."

"Marlene's a lovely girl," she said. "I'm quite proud of that comparison."

"Or, if _you_ don't go, _I'll_ go," I said.

"No, stay, I wanted to talk to you about something," she said, sitting down on the couch. My head lifted: Was she going to end my prison sentence? "Your sister's getting married—"

I returned to my notebook. I was still hurt that she had gotten engaged and didn't even bother to say anything.

"—and we would like you to be a bridesmaid," Mum said carefully.

"We, meaning you and Dad, or we, meaning you, Dad, and Tuney?" I asked shortly. She looked uncomfortable.

"Well, we haven't exactly talked to her about it yet, but I'm sure she would be than happy—"

"Mum," I interrupted. "You're kidding yourself. Petunia would rather die than have me as a bridesmaid."

"Lily!"

"You know it's true," I said. "I'm sorry, Mum. I really am. But the chances of us making up are slimmer than the chances of me getting un-grounded before my sixtieth birthday."

"Ah," she nodded in agreement. "When you put it that way..."

"Exactly," I concluded. "Now, will you go, or shall I?"

* * *

><p>Me and James were perfectly obedience little children for the next week and a half. I read as he read, I worked as he worked. School was starting in a week, and I had to restock my brain with knowledge, no? I was starting to think that once we get back to Hogwarts, we could study together. Of course, with Remus as Head Boy, I'll already be seeing a lot of him and the Marauders. A little extra time together wouldn't hurt, right?<p>

Well, the answer to that was wrong. The school owl, which had always brought such good news before, bore terrible, terrible information this year. Other than the Head Girl badge, of course. I was expecting _that_, not to sound overly arrogant or anything. But it also brought something that I most certainly was _not_ expecting.

It came on a Friday. James arrived at ten, which had become our normal routine. From the kitchen window, I thought his grin was just a tad bigger and the spring in his step a tad springier. I opened the door suspiciously.

"Lily!" he called happily. "Guess what!"

"What?" I responded, nudging my Head Girl badge into view. "Did Remus get it?"

He paused, looking confused. "Wait, what?"

"This!" I said impatiently, pointing at the shiny scarlet badge. "Did Remus get this!"

James's brow furrowed. "You're calling him a girl?"

I stamped my foot. "James Potter, you know what I mean! Now answer my question!"

"_What_?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake. Did. Remus. Get. The. Head. Boy. Badge." I glared at him. "It's either a yes or a no. Doesn't take too much brainpower.

"Lily," James said slowly, "I'm Head Boy."

I stared at him for a few seconds. Then I burst out laughing. "Oh, good one. We were in need of some humor around here. The workload was getting too austere."

"Lily!" he said. "It wasn't a joke! I _am_ Head Boy! Here!" He thrust a sheaf of parchment at me. The frustration in his tone made me read the letter, and when I finished, my jaw was taking a trip to China.

"No." My voice was weak. I sat down with a thump on the ground. "No bloody way in a bloody hundred years."

"I know," he nodded solemnly. "That was my mother's reaction too."

"Is this real life?" I asked feebly. "Please tell me I'm dreaming."

"Would it really be that bad?" he said. "Do you really hate me that much? Okay, yes you do, but I thought you liked me a bit more now..."

"James," I shook my head. "You don't understand. You and I are Heads of the school. We're sharing a common room and living space and responsibility and everything. It just can't happen."

"So you do hate me that much," he said. His voice changed. It was hard. It stung.

"No," I protested. "I don't hate you!"

"Yeah?" His sneer cut me like nothing else ever had. "You sure are acting like it."

"James—"

He threw down his badge. "You hate me. I thought we'd grown closer, but you still hate me. I don't know why you're being so friendly. Why am I _letting_ you? Why am I here? Why the _hell_ am I here if you hate me?"

"James—"

"And to think, I was actually excited when I got this damn badge! I thought everything was finally going to work out. I thought it was finally going to happen. You and I." James laughed bitterly. It wasn't the laugh I'd come to smile at. It wasn't a laugh I've ever heard before. "After all this time, I'm still tottering after you like a lovesick puppy. You must think me so stupid, Lily Evans."

"James Potter!" I exploded. Maybe it was hearing my surname. Maybe it was how mean he was being. But I fell apart and threw everything I had at him. "You think I hate you? If I hate you, then why would I let to come over every day? Why would I get myself grounded for your sake? Why would I be teaching you the meaningless crap that I'm teaching you? If I hated you, why would I—"

My voice broke then. I forced down a sob. "If I hated you," I yelled, blinking away tears, "then why would I kiss you?"

He looked stunned, as if remembering what had happened that night. Then he recovered. "It was probably all a part of your little plan to get yourself out of trouble. You don't care for me, if that's what you mean."

"Ugh!" I cried. "Why are you so _stupid_?"

"You admit it, then!" he cried back. "You admit that I'm stupid!"

"And you are! Why do you keep thinking that I still hate you!"

James stared at me. I hadn't realized that we were moving closer as we shouted, and now we were almost nose to nose. "Oh, I don't know," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because you do?"

The flat darkness of his eyes drove me over the edge.

"James, I don't hate you," I sobbed. "I like you. I really like you. I might even fancy you! I don't hate you!"

He froze. I think he might have gone into shock because of my open declaration of affection. Even I was a little surprised that I blurted that out for the world to hear. Well, I can't stop now. Taking a deep breath, I gripped his forearms tightly and laid my soul bare.

"There's that James at school," I started. "The arrogant prick, the one that trips first years in the hall and steals their homework. And then there's _this_ James. This one is nice and warm and cute—and he's even learning stuff! And..." I closed my eyes, trying to put what I'm feeling into words. "And there are so many emotions and feelings inside of me, and they're all so jumbled together and I'm just so _confused_ with them all."

I dared to look into his eyes. They weren't quite as black anymore. My now-loose hands slid down to his wrists. "But one thing I'm certain about. And you should believe this, whether you want to or not—no, screw that, I don't care if you believe it or not, I'll say it anyways. I don't hate you anymore. I don't know _when_ I started not hating you, but I think I actually like you a little now. All right, fine, I like you a lot. A lot more than I should."

The house, which had previously echoed with the force of our voices, has gone quiet. Tears were streaming freely down my face and I pressed my lips tightly together. James was as still as death itself. When he finally looked at me, I was afraid for a second that he was going to push me away. But he pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.

"Why didn't you just say so?" he murmured at my ear.

"I just did, didn't I?" I whispered back. A few drops of my tears found their way onto his shirt and his into my hair. I could have stayed there forever.

Then the applause started. Our heads sprang up simultaneously, our eyes wide. There was a bright flash that just about fried my retinas, and I finally understood the definition of the term "like a deer caught in headlights". That definition was us.

"Bravo, James!" my father cried. "It takes some work for her to spill her guts like that, you know!"

"But—what?" I spluttered. My eyes zoned in on the camera in his hands. "_DAD_!"

"Don't kill your father just now, Lily," Mum said. "Not when one of his dearest dreams had just come true. Well done, James," she added. "I really had never seen her be so honest and open about her feelings with anyone before."

"Er, thanks, I suppose," James stammered, his smooth charm gone. I guess my family's enough to do that to anybody.

"I hope you were listening," I said to him. "Because never will I wear my heart on my sleeve like that again."

"I was," he reassured me. "But I think Sirius and Marlene and the rest of them might want to hear it..."

"Oh, mother," I muttered. "Maybe I shouldn't have done that after all."

"Well?" Dad cut in. "Are you just going to stand here and talk all day?"

We stared blankly at him. "What?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just thought, after that intimate confession that you two might want to...you know?"

"Oh!" I gasped. "Oh, right."

"Know what?" James asked nervously. "What are we doing?"

"Mum, Dad," I ordered, "face the wall."

They complied with matching grins. Then I turned back to James with a small, happy smile.

"You know, I just sorta wish that it didn't have to take a screaming row for this to happen," I said.

"Me too," he agreed. "But what's going to happen?"

I laughed. "You're an idiot, James Potter."

And then I kissed him. It took a while, but eventually his brain started to function again and he kissed me back. It was a sweet, lingering kiss promising of many more to come. My parents couldn't resist and soon were snapping pictures by the dozen. My father ran to the car, yelling something about getting the local newspaper and TV crew.

Throughout all this, we were in each other's arms, oblivious to the world, oblivious to everything but our intertwined selves. James looked into my eyes and smiled, his lips continuing to move with mine. We didn't let go of each other for a long, long time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yayayayayayay! I'm so happy for Lily and James :') It's so fluffy I'm gonna die :')<strong>

**~Gella :')**


	17. Epilogue

**AN: Here it is, the final chapter. Thank you, MarisaCan'tRememberHerPassword, once again for giving me this idea, which blossomed into my first complete Jily fanfiction. And I thank all you guys for being great and putting up with my prolonged periods of absence while I wrestled with crap in my life and other stuff. Don't remove this story from your subscription just yet though, there might be another little surprise coming up after this ;) Enjoy!**

**~Gella**

* * *

><p>It was a beautiful day. Fluffy white clouds floated lazily in the sky, and other less pleasant things floated past us on the Thames River. We were in high spirits, all ten of us. And Marlene was repeating my now-infamous speech, for the thirteenth time. And, for the thirteenth time, our friends applauded and cheered as if it was their very first time hearing the worn-out words.<p>

I looked at James, and we shared an eye roll. Our nosy gits of friends had been bombarding us with questions the very second I stepped outside again. We'd put it off, insisting everything be revealed later. We then went out for ice cream and scared the bejesus out of the vendor. It was a traumatizing experience, you know, to be surrounded by a gaggle of seventeen-year-olds all clamoring for ice cream at the same time. I hoped, with the help of some counseling, that one day he might begin to speak in complete sentences again.

Then, there were the more private moments. Sirius and Marlene, James and I. In his room, making fun of each other, or up in the air, trying not to die as the two boys zoomed around us at killer speed. We sat in his garden, chatting about nothing in particular, or laughing until a six-pack formed at James's highly accurate imitations of Petunia and Vermin.

He "graduated" from my Muggle School for Awesome Wizards Named James Potter. It was a great ceremony, complete with chocolate éclairs and butterbeer and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. James received his certificate, a hastily-drawn sheet of paper by Sirius, depicting a stick-figure redhead smooching a stick-figure, bespectacled boy. The words "Now Let's Make a Baby!" was emblazoned in bright, Gryffindor colors beneath that world-class drawing. I was more than happy to distribute a few Bat-Bogey Hexes that day.

And occasionally, we could even get a few minutes to ourselves, just the two of us. We'd just hold hands or smile. Sometimes his lips brushed my hair, sometimes my lips touched his. Then Sirius would discover our newest hiding spot— and he always, always did, without fail. What a stalker—and we'd have to chase after him spewing death threats, with wands out and profanity flying.

And now they know. Everything that happened. Well, we had told everybody, but I wasn't sure if they understood the entire thing or not. Marlene certainly did, and if they _still_ didn't get it after the number of times she's repeated it, they're thick enough to be a Death Eater.

"And then she was all like, 'Oh James, I love you and I hate you and I love you and I love you and let's snog and—'" Marlene said excitedly, waving her hands around and knocking over Emmy's cup of tea. Then she caught my eye and blushed guiltily. "Sorry Lils," she apologized. "Okay, so maybe it didn't happen _exactly_ like that..."

"What Marlene's trying to say here is that it didn't happen like that at all," I cut in. "And I do think they've got the gist of it, thanks, Mar."

"Aw, come on," Marlene whined. "This is only ever gonna happen once!"

"Too right," James agreed. "Lily, if you dare say that to another bloke—"

"You're cute when you're jealous," I told him, kissing his nose. A collective groan rose from the congregated group in the Muggle teashop. I ignored them and planted another light kiss on his cheek. "But don't worry, that will never happen."

"Geez, Lily," Benjy complained. "Years one through six, you were all for killing him then dancing on his grave, and in the span of—what, a month, you two are cuddling and snogging and—and—stuff like that—all over the place! A bit abrupt, don't you think?"

"Is that right, Benjy?" I asked sweetly. "Well, I'm sure your 'dearest, fairest, loveliest emerald' begs to differ. Right, Emmy?"

Emmeline's tea came out of her nose. "Lily!" she shouted.

"You lot are unbelievable," Benjy muttered. "All right, all right, continue on with the sappy glances and sweet nothings. Urgh."

Right on cue, James leaned over and kissed my ear. Everyone grimaced together.

"Wait, guys, what time are we meeting at Diagon Alley tomorrow?" Alice asked. "You might've mentioned it once to me, but I forgot..."

"Al, we've told everyone at least five times," Dorcas said. "But it's nine-thirty in the morning. We're going supply shopping, and then the next day we meet there again, and we're off to Hogwarts!"

More cheers and applause. It was almost as if the war outside didn't exist here, in our little warm bubble of happiness and love. But the memory at the playground hasn't yet left me, and James's story of his poor uncle was still fresh in my brain. Looking around, I realized for the first time just how unprepared we were. This was our last year in the safety of Hogwarts School and Albus Dumbledore. How were we going to fend for ourselves out in the dangerous, harsh world?

I gripped James's hand, like I usually did when the topic of the war came up on my mind. He was used to it by now, and simply squeezed back without question. Something hard slipped from his hand into mine. His Head Boy badge. The scarlet paint caught the bright sunlight, and I smiled at it. It was James's unique way of gently tugging me away from the scary thoughts and then setting me onto a cloud of wonderful visions of this coming year. I pressed my Head Girl badge into his hand in return, thanking him for simply being there.

"Oi, Evans!" Sirius called from his corner of the table.

"What?" I called back.

"You've gotta teach us the Muggle stuff you were teaching Prongs," he grinned. "Think about it. The two of you've got this sweet common room that could easily fit all of us, plus Remus and Peter."

"Once was torture enough, Black. I don't need to go through that again."

"Are you just saying that because you want those lessons to be between you and Jamie boy?" he countered. "Fine, fine. Keep secrets from us. It's what all lovers do, innit?"

"You're an idiot," I said. "James, do you think your mate should do everything I taught you?" I raised my eyebrows at him and mouthed the word "map". A crooked smirk lit James's face.

"Oh, absolutely," he replied. "As soon as we get to school, the lessons start. If that's all right with you, of course, Sirius," he added.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Sirius said. "Merlin, I can't wait!"

I turned my back on him and made a mental note to add a map of Asia and the Middle East into my school trunk tonight. Oh, the fun I was going to have with that...

"We need to get going," Mary said. "Dorcas's parents are taking us to watch her Quidditch game today." She winced like she would rather eat slugs than spend the day watching Quiddtich. I gave her a brief hug and slipped a Chocolate Frog into her pocket.

"Don't die of boredom," I said and hugged Dorcas as well. "And don't try to kick the Quaffle at poor Mary again," I added.

"That was an accident!" Dorcas complained. "Sheesh, Lily."

"And we have a double date to attend to," Alice said, holding Frank's hand. "Come on, Em, Benjy. See you tomorrow!" She blew a kiss to all of us and left cheerfully. The shop, which was bursting at the seams only minutes before, was now almost empty.

Sirius tipped back in his chair and watched me and James.

"What?" I asked. "Stop staring at me like that. It's creepy."

"Rule number one," he said suddenly. "Never even dare to think about cheating on a Marauder. The rest of us will find out, and you will feel our wrath."

I snorted. "So it's perfectly all right for a Marauder to cheat on someone else then?"

"Exactly!" he beamed. "See, you're catching on already. Right. Rule number two—"

"I've already showed her that, Padfoot," James said. "And I made her sign with her blood too."

He winked at me. I rolled my eyes again, remembering the cranberry juice I had dipped my quill in.

"You did?" Sirius gasped dramatically. "Without the rest of us present? Why, James Potter, we're losing you to a girl already!"

He leaped out of his chair and chased James out into the street. Their roars of laughter echoed back to us as they raced away. That left Marlene and me. I slid a photograph, facedown, to her. She turned it over curiously. On the other side, there was a picture of James and I glued together at the mouths. We were moving, too—I produced it in the motion-inducing potion after my father had come home from the pharmacy with a stack of those in hand.

"I'm sorry it's not the London Bridge," I said quietly. "But my living room would have to do for now."

"Oh, Lily!" she flew at me and hugged me with all her might. I hugged her back, remembering just how good it felt to be held so tightly by my best friend. After a while, we broke apart, smiling at each other tearfully.

"I'm so happy for you, Lily," she sniffed, wiping her nose on a napkin. "James is going to be so great for you."

"He is, isn't he?" I sighed dreamily. But she wasn't done.

"But if he hurts you in any way, shape, or form," Marlene continued, her tears drying up in an instant and her face morphing to resemble an angry mother bear's, "that means Dorcas will get to perform her most favorite type of kick upon a rather unusual type of ball."

"Oh, Marlene," I laughed and pulled her into an embrace again.

James and Sirius lumbered back, still throwing punches and exchanging insults over our heads. In all due time, when we were all properly seated again, James not-so-subtly glanced at the clock and cleared his throat. Sirius's eyes widened mockingly.

"That's our cue to go," he said to Marlene, pulling her up. "Wants some time alone with his new girl, he does..."

"Get out of my sight, Black." James tossed a biscuit at Sirius's head. He caught it and stuffed it in his mouth.

"See you later, Lily," Marlene called. I waved to her and watched them retreat into a nearby side alley. Then, just before they were about to Apparate away, Sirius bent his head and kissed Marlene. He pulled away a few seconds later, but there was a soft, sincere smile on his face.

I was surprised—no, _shocked_, actually, by this unusually-tender gesture, but it also gave me hope. If Sirius could be nice to his girlfriend, then I could survive whatever life decided to throw at me. My fingers traced the embellished metal 'HB' on James's badge, leaning deeper into his arms.

"The wedding's in September," I said. "She planned it exactly that I wouldn't be able to go."

"She's just jealous that you're going to look more beautiful than she is," James said roughly.

"She's my sister, James," I whispered. "This is the only time my older sister is going to get married."

"To a fat whale of a man whose eyes are barely visible under the flab on his face."

"She's happy with him."

"And you're happy with me," James said. "We don't need _them_."

I said nothing.

"Hey," he said, rubbing my arms. "We can ask Professor Dumbledore if we could Apparate or use a Portkey. He'll understand."

I considered this. It was a possibility. And yet...

"She won't want me there," I said softly. "I'll ruin her big day."

James caught my wrists and turned my face towards his. "Lily, you're torturing yourself to make her happy," he growled. "She doesn't deserve that. _You_ don't deserve that."

I stared at a crumb on the ground. A pigeon swooped down and gobbled it up.

James shook me. "Lily?"

"Yes, James?" I answered.

"Listen to me. You're too good for her. She's nothing more than a jealous Muggle, that's all. Don't let her get you down."

I sighed. "Sometimes," I murmured, "I wish I never got my letter."

"And then you never would've met me."

"Good thing, that."

"You're just saying that. You wouldn't trade me for a million other things," James winked. My lips twitched in a weak smile. "I love you, Lily."

I studied his face, looking for traces of humor. I found none. He looked more solemn than I had ever seen him. He held my gaze, willing me to understand.

He was being honest. He loved me.

"I love you too, James," I said.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew it was true. I was being honest. I loved him.

James grinned, breaking the somber mood. "I'm glad that's settled, then."

Then he kissed me. In that moment, I knew we would be okay. Because we had each other, and that was enough.

_Fin_.


	18. Bloopers

**Bloopers (or, what your crazy author almost included but decided not to at the last moment)**

* * *

><p>Of course, that prat just ignored the warning and grabbed my hand in his. And absolutely refused to effing let go. "Look, Lily," he began. "I know you hate me—"<p>

Understatement of the century much?

"—but if you'd give me a chance—!"

"I gave you a chance not five minutes ago," I told him coldly. "And look where that went."

"All right, I'll admit I've screwed that up a bit—"

"Tell me something I don't know," I muttered.

"But I won't, not this time. I promise."

"Your promises are worth less to me than a grain of sand."

"Ouch, Lils, I'm hurt," he took a weak attempt at joking. "All right, I'll just shut up now."

"And let go of me, if you please."

He pulled me closer.

* * *

><p>"With you as my teacher, I do." He whispered. I shoved him away.<p>

"Look, it's bad enough that my mother had to invite you over for dinner, but I'm not about to spend the remainder of my summer break teaching you, of all people, about Muggles. Why didn't you take Muggle Studies?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

I ignored him and went on. "Besides, you literally just admitted that the only reason behind your sudden interest in Muggles is because of me. And that, in my book, isn't a good enough reason."

"All right, I take back what I said. Now will you teach me?"

"No."

"I'm serious. Muggle schoolwork is something that could come handy later in life."

"Like when?"

He threw his hands up. "How should I know?"

* * *

><p>"Your friendship is a weird one."<p>

"Our friendship is a weird one too," he pointed out.

"What friendship?"

"Don't be mean."

"Me? Mean? Never!"

* * *

><p>At first I was doubtful about letting him take over (remember, this is a bloke who blows up houses for fun), then, after much whining and begging and pleading on his part, I finally relented. I watched with grudging admiration from a scared corner while he pranced about my kitchen as if he owned the place.<p>

"How'd you learn all this?" I asked, eying the plateful of perfect, crispy bacon, without a single burnt spot.

"My house-elf taught me," he said. "When I was really young."

"I didn't know there was such a feminine side to you," I remarked. "Does Sirius know?"

"Sirius knows," he confirmed. "And he hasn't given me a single moment of peace about it."

"Your friendship is a weird one."

"Our friendship is a weird one too," he pointed out.

I didn't say anything to that. "How much more are you going to make? We might as well as eat the lot of this for dinner, then save some for the next day."

"Good point. I'll stop right here." He reached for a fresh plate, piling upon it several heaps of delicious-looking ham sausages. He noticed my look of longing with amusement.

"Oh, go on, Lils. Try one." He said, holding out a fat, juicy sausage to me. I tried to curb my yearning, determined to retain at least some of my dignity, and epically failed. After about three sausages later, I realized he was still looking at me, trying not to laugh.

"What?" I asked thickly between bites. "Never seen a girl eat before?"

"I've never seen anyone as hungry as you before," he said. "And I live with Sirius."

* * *

><p>"I'm leaving," I said. "My parents are going to murder me bloody when I get home, so might as well as do it sooner, than later."<p>

"They won't kill you," Marlene assured me. "Just take away all your freedoms and ground you until you're thirty. That's all."

* * *

><p>Vermin glared at me. "Do you always give such flippant answers?"<p>

"Yep," I said sunnily.

* * *

><p>Hmm. Did he just call me a bitch? Why, I think he did. Should I hex him? Yes, I think I should. Well, that's settled then. I cheerfully pulled out my wand from my pocket.<p>

* * *

><p>Now, I should've just let that go. Pretend I didn't care. Let him and Petunia treat me like their slave. Yes, I should have. So what do you think I did?<p>

I stood up, and before I was even aware of it, my wand was in my hand. Vermin hastily scooted back a few inches, but I was done. The same pounding adrenaline I had when I slapped my sister filled me again. This time, I put all my power into a spell. A spell I had sworn to never use again.

"_SECTUMSEPRA_!"

The effect was horrifyingly satisfactory (to _me_, that is—to him, not so much). Deep gashes appeared and spurts of blood gushed out. Vernon fell to the ground, screaming and twitching grotesquely. Petunia rushed out of her room and knelt by her future husband. She clutched his hand, gasping.

"HELP HIM!" She screamed at me. "HELP HIM, DAMMIT!"

I stumbled back a few steps, either because I had never heard my sister sound this desperate and heartbroken, or from the shock of what I had done. I raised my wand again and tried to remember what Severus had said was the counterspell. With shaky hands, I traced my wand over the red rivers on Vernon's body. They closed up almost immediately, but the pool of blood around him was terrifying. He wasn't moving. Petunia was sobbing. And me? I shoved the phone at my sister and managed to choke out,

"Call Mum and Dad."

Then I fled.

* * *

><p>He looked at me questioningly. I smiled back, and he paled.<p>

"Oh no," he gulped. "I know that look."

My smile grew, and I wouldn't be surprised if I'd sprouted little red horns on my head just then. I threw a thick map at him. "Memorize everything on the continent of Asia. Recite it to me tomorrow."

"Lily—"

"Do it!"

"Yes, master."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Some of these bits were too priceless to simply be deleted, so here they are! Some of these take so long to write, and when I finally have it done I realize it doesn't help the plot at all, so then I have to rewrite the entire part. I really wanted to include that bit with Lily cursing Vermin, though with all the trouble she was in, I didn't think it wise for her to do something like that. Again, thank you all so much for the support and I would go on with more of my cheesy love but I think you get it so goodbye! <strong>

**~Gella**


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